


Touch Me Like I'm Glass

by haiplana



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Abusive Parent, Aliens, Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, But also, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Child Abuse, F/F, Fluff, Good!Lena, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Metahumans, Minor Sanvers, Mutant Powers, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Past Torture, Project Cadmus, Smut, SuperCorp, Torture, Two Shot, electric shock, evil!Lena, the torture isn't in detail but might be a little triggering when mentioned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-26 03:27:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 21,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9860159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haiplana/pseuds/haiplana
Summary: Based on the prompt: "AU: What if when Lillian had a adopted Lena it was to conduct experiments on her and from those she developed powers? She was trained and tortured to be a weapon against aliens until years later she was finally freed by Supergirl. Everyone thinks she evil cause not only is she a Luther but she was also an experiment by CADMUS. Only Kara believes that isn't true because she looked into her eyes. ( Hopefully this all makes sense)"--Lena was raised to be a weapon for Cadmus. Kara was raised to see the good in everyone.





	1. The Earth

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here it is, my Supercorp follow-up to Your Soldier. I honestly didn't think I could (emotionally) top the angst in Your Soldier, but I have, I think. And, after last night's horror show, I figured posting the first part now would be a good idea.
> 
> The beginning is really Lena heavy, so bear with me. Next chapter will have a lot of Kara and Supercorp, I just had to get through the beginnings first.
> 
> Enjoy.

_Her eyes fluttered in some sort of futile attempt to move, to fight, to destroy._

_“We can’t just lock her up!” The voice was high and fearful and insistent._

_“She’s dangerous.”_

_“She’s a human being!”_

_“She’s a project, a weapon.” This voice was deep and authoritative. It made her gut clench and her fingers curl limply. “The only way to keep the city safe is to keep her contained here.”_

_“There is something human about her, J’onn. I saw it in her eyes. Please, let me help her.”_

_A pause filled with breathing. She tried to move her arm but was numbed immediately. A haze fell over her mind until she couldn’t gather her surroundings, couldn’t focus on the scents or the blurred figures shifting through her squinted eyelids._

_“Fine. But if she gets loose and goes after the city, we’re taking her in.” With that, heavy boots thudded off._

_Cool hands were on her wrists then, pulling off the metal restraints that she couldn’t even feel. Strong arms lifted her as though she weighed nothing. Her eyes fluttered more, until she could make out something of a face and silky blonde hair._

_“Are you sure about this?” Another female voice, this one calmer, lower, wary. “Don’t you want to keep her here, just for the first few days?”_

_“She doesn’t need a cell. She needs a bed and some care. I can give her that. Do you trust me?” The first voice was softer now. It began to lull her into a sleep, one that she had been fighting before._

_“I do trust you.”_

_“I was sent here to take care of people. Now I’m going to take care of her.”_

 

* * *

 

Christmas was terrible. It was somber and cold, the days were dark and dreary, and for the fourth year Lena was alone. Many of the other children in the orphanage were adopted around Christmas time, but never Lena. As much as the nuns told her to keep a smile on her face, to hope for God to send her a nice family, she just couldn’t. The concept of a mother and father was foreign to her; all she knew were fleeting young faces and small rooms filled with the whimpers of strange children.

Holiday music played from one of the old record players on the high shelf in the recreational room. A younger nun sat in the corner, knitting, humming along to the tune of the time.

_I really can’t stay_

_Baby it’s cold outside._

_I’ve got to go away_

_Baby it’s cold outside_ …

Lena took down her tower block by block, rearranging them in a pattern of matching shapes — squares with squares, circles with circles, triangles with triangles — and alternating colors — green, red, blue, red, green, red, blue, red — until a perfect line snaked across the cold wooden floor. When that grew tiresome, she counted the grain lines in the flooring, pictured the holes in the walls as starry constellations, and took note of each _click_ of the nun’s knitting needles.

Voices carried down the hall to the recreation room. Lena paused her counting and absently played with the blocks as she listened.

“—studies that say orphaned children have underdeveloped brains. I cannot have a child with a less than average mental capacity.”

“I assure you that those studies were done in orphanages without trained and dedicated staff.” It was the head nun, Sister Agatha. She was flustered in a way Lena hadn’t heard before. She couldn’t even begin to comprehend the words before the door was being pushed open and a blonde woman was stepping over the threshold with Sister Agatha trailing behind. “Her,” Agatha said, pointing at Lena. Lena continued to play with her blocks, seemingly unaware. “She is a brilliant child, thank the Lord.”

“We will see.” The blonde woman’s gaze sized her up, falling heavily upon Lena’s shoulders.

“Lena, child,” Agatha called, “come here, please.” Lena picked her head up, dropping the block that was in her hand. She stood, pulled nervously on her plaid skirt, and crossed the room to where the women were standing. The nun in the corner paused her knitting and observed with a careful eye.

“Lena is your name?” the woman asked. Lena nodded her head, barely meeting her eyes. “Can you speak?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Lena said, wringing her hands in front of her. The woman was tall and towering. A brown coat hung over her broad shoulders and covered a black dress that reached below her knees.

The woman turned to Agatha. “She has pretty eyes, a nice face. She seems all there.”

“She counts very well, and she likes patterns and puzzles. More advanced than the other children her age.” Agatha pulled on the sides of her habit.

“Fine, she’ll do,” the woman said, turning swiftly on her heel. “Hurry with the papers, please. I must be going soon.”

Sister Agatha sighed. “Sister Margaret,” she called to the nun in the corner, “will you help Lena gather her things and bring her to the chapel in five minutes?”

“Yes, Sister Agatha.” Margaret put her knitting down on her chair as she stood. She took Lena’s hand and began leading her out the door and down the hall to the bedroom. “Here you are, darling. Let’s get your clothes in order.” Lena nodded and watched Margaret pull a sack-like bag from beneath Lena’s bed. “You’re going to have a perfect family, Lena, and just in time for the holidays.” She pulled open Lena’s single drawer and took out the extra sets of clothes and pajamas. “Now, you be a good girl, respect your new parents, listen to them, and pray to the Lord, thank him for this gift.”

“I will,” Lena said meekly.

“Good.” Sister Margaret took the sweater from Lena’s drawer and tugged it over her arms, buttoning it in the front. “You’re going to have such a happy life. God wills it.” She pulled on her habit a bit, stuck her hand in something of a pocket and closed her fingers around something before pulling it out. She opened her hand to reveal a silver necklace with the image of a dove on it. “Take this with you. May you be safe, always.” Margaret secured it around Lena’s neck, tucked a lock of the girl’s black hair behind her ear, and placed a kiss to the top of her head. “Come, now, let’s go see your new mother.”

Lena trudged down the main hall behind Sister Margaret. They neared the chapel at the front of the building, and Lena could see the woman waiting, arms folded over her chest. The woman turned, then, and went out the door. Agatha scurried after her, as did Margaret.

The stairs were large and coated with a thin layer of snow, so Lena took them one at a time. Margaret and Agatha were standing beside a sleek black car, where a man in a suit was taking Lena’s bag and placing it in the front seat. The woman was already inside the car, door propped open. Lena made it down the stairs and was ushered inside by the two nuns, barely saying goodbye. The door almost slammed on her foot. She tried to settled into the stiff leather seat next to the woman, but was thrown when the car lurched forward. It was her first time in a car, thrilling and terrifying all at once. She gripped at anything she could find, and when her hand landed on the woman’s wrist, it was shrugged off immediately.

“Mot—”

“Lillian,” the woman said sharply. “You will call me Lillian.” Lena’s eyes widened, and she nodded.

“Are we going far?” Lena asked. She hid a yawn behind her hands and felt her body droop into the seat.

“Yes,” Lillian answered, staring ahead. “Sleep. There will be much to do when we arrive.”

It didn’t take much more prompting than that. Lena found herself a comfortable position and tucked her arms into herself to keep warm. She didn’t fight the sleep that quickly slipped over her eyelids.

 

* * *

 

The car door was opened and gruff hands pulled her out. Her eyes couldn’t even open before she was carried inside, and the sterile scent of metal and cleaning supplies hit her nose. She crinkled her face and blinked open her eyes. A strange man’s face, hard and focused, was above her. Lillian’s voice was loud and authoritative behind them, then more strange voices. They walked down a long corridor until it opened into a wider space. The room was dark, lit only by big, bright lights. Lena squirmed in the man’s arms, but his grip was firm and unwavering.

“Set her in the chair,” Lillian commanded, stepping over to a group of men in white coats behind a desk. “And someone please get her out of those unfortunate clothes.”

Lena was set, somewhat gently, on a large metal chair, like the one she had sat in at her last dentist appointment. Only this time, there was no smiling doctor with silly glasses and pink rubber gloves. There were three large men with their arms crossed and two women moving in with machines, wires, needles. One of the men was handed a stack of something, and he moved to Lena, putting the stack next to her and reaching for the buttons on her sweater. Her breaths came out in short rasps, panic setting in, and she flinched from his grasp. The man was too strong, of course, and he just continued to remove her sweater, then on to the plaid jumper dress. Lena whined and closed her eyes.

Her clothes were removed and replaced with an itchy paper that had been in the stack. The dress covered her body down to her knees, her arms were bare and unprotected. Before she could even hug them to her chest, protect some part of her exposed self, the women pounced. They pulled out their needles and poked them into her arms, drawing little vials of red blood. Lena’s arms stung and she tried to move away, but that hurt worse and she stayed still. Once they were done with the blood, smaller needles were pressed under her skin and connected to machines through red wires. Lena couldn’t even begin to comprehend what the odd shapes and numbers on the machines meant.

“Rush those blood tests. We need to begin immediately,” Lillian said. She and the doctors started towards Lena. Her vision was blurring around the edges, and she could hear her heart racing in her ears.

“Ma’am, we need to begin her intelligence and sensory tests. We can only develop what we need if we know her baseline scores,” one of the doctors said, his words rushed. Lillian waved a hand.

“Fine, do what you must.” She examined the machines and nodded to herself.

Tears slipped over Lena’s cheeks and she whimpered quietly. No one seemed to notice.

“I’ll need the sound and pattern tests over here. Bring the vision test next.” The doctors scrambled around at the orders coming from the head doctor, as it seemed. Lillian glanced at Lena, face pinched in disgust, before she turned away.

“I want her receiving injections by the end of the week.” Lillian’s words were heard over the hustle of the other doctors carting over screens and wires with blinking lights. A resounding ‘yes, ma’am’ answered.

Lena’s wet eyes drooped, her body shook, and her whimpers grew louder. If this was God’s idea of a perfect family, God wasn’t the person Agatha and Margaret promised He would be.

 

* * *

 

The tests went on for days. Lena was asked math questions, told to find patterns, arrange numbers in orders meant to signify something. Her eyes were checked, her ears were examined and tested, her fingers were pricked. Everything was a complex rush. It was like she wasn’t really there for it all, existing when she was prompted and letting herself float into space when she wasn’t needed.

She slept in a small, dark room with a little bed and a bath tub. She was bathed daily, dressed in the paper gown and carried back to the chair. Sometimes Lillian was there, other times she was not. Lena didn’t mind, even preferred not to see her adoptive mother. The woman’s face was associated with pain and blood and fear.

On the last morning of the week, however, Lena was awoken by three of the doctors. They pulled her out of bed and brought her to the same room, though there was a cushioned table instead of a chair, where Lillian was waiting. The wry smirk on the woman’s face made Lena quake in fear. She was pulled up onto the table, her arms taken and pressed into her sides. Cold metal cuffs were placed over her wrists and secured to the table, and the same fate became of her ankles.

Lillian produced a large needle, larger than Lena had ever seen, with a purple substance in the tube. Lena was thrashing, then, as though her body automatically compelled her to. The metal dug into her wrists and pain shot into her arms. Tears spilled over her temples and into her silky hair.

“Flip the table,” Lillian commanded. A whirring noise sounded, and the table was turned on its side, Lena’s body shifting with the movement. A hatch was opened in the bottom of the table. Lena’s paper dress was pushed aside as cool air hit her lower back. “Prepare for the first injection.”

And Lena saw stars.

The needle pressed into her back in a searing pain. She screamed and tried to move but couldn’t. White-hot pain clouded her eyes. Her ears rang and her wrists felt cold. It wasn’t long before the world went black.

 

* * *

 

When Lena woke up, her head throbbed. She scrunched her little eyes tighter and brought clenched fists to her forehead. The pain at the base of her back was dulled by a million other senses hitting her. She could hear voices down the hall, could feel heat radiating from the lights above her. Sharp metal and iron hit her nose and made her stomach roil. Everything was multiplied by one thousand and it was too much.

Lena rolled on her bed and stuffed her head under her pillow. The sounds didn’t dull, though, and more became apparent. Birds chirping, people talking, a coffee machine running. She was still locked in her metal room, but she could hear the outside world clearly.

She groaned and tried to block it out, but that made her more sick. The pillow was suffocating her. She removed it from her head and opened her eyes. It was still very dark in the room, that she could tell; however, she was able to vividly make out the line of the tub, the fine details on the doorknob. Lena looked down at her hands and was able to see the lines on her palms without strain. Red, raw flesh lined her wrists in perfect rings, specks of blood still left over. The skin ached, but not too terribly. 

Footsteps carried down the hall towards her room. Lena could hear the man well before he reached the door, his keys jingling in the lock. Light flooded the room as he opened the door, and Lena winced and squinted against the harsh light. He lifted her and carried her out of the room straight away.

“Lena, there you are,” Lillian greeted coldly when Lena and the man arrived in the lab room. She was placed on her usual chair, thankfully not the table, and was immediately flanked by doctors. “Test everything. By now the serum should have run its full course.”

The doctors rushed — as they usually did — with needles and stethoscopes and other gadgets that Lena couldn’t begin to recognize.

“Heart rate is elevated but steady.”

“Breath sounds are normal.”

“Ears and eyes look fine, though pupils are smaller than usual.”

Someone slammed a rubber mallet into her knee, and she jumped.

“Reflexes look good.”

She was poked and prodded with needles of all sizes; the smaller ones she barely felt, though as they grew larger, she began to flinch away.

“Pain tolerance is much higher than before. It’s a significant improvement.”

“Good,” Lillian nearly purred. She placed her hand under Lena’s chin and squeezed the flesh between her fingers. “Prepare phase two of the serum for tomorrow. I want this done by the end of the month.”

 

* * *

 

Every other day brought injections, with tests in between. The injections were less painful with each one. The fear that Lena felt, though, was only growing. Her reactions to things didn’t feel normal. She was young, but she knew what normal felt like. Lights became brighter, sounds became louder, heat became hotter. In a fit of terror and restlessness, she tore one of her bedsheets without much effort.

After fifteen injections, Lillian finally declared that they would stop. Lena didn’t react —couldn’t react. The routine was what she had come to know. She didn’t want it to stop, because whatever the future held could be worse than the present. Lillian was terrifying and unpredictable.

On the final day, Lillian woke Lena. She unlocked the door and stood as a dark shadow in front of the light, a stack of clothes in her arms. She unloaded the stack on the end of Lena’s bed and moved to the tub, filling it with steaming water. Lena stood from the bed warily.

“Come on, take off your nightclothes and get in.” Lillian’s stare was hard. Lena did as she was asked, dropping her nightgown in a pile on the floor. She lifted herself into the tub, found the bar of soap and bathed herself under Lillian’s watchful eye. It was messy and imperfect, heavily scrutinized by the woman, but Lena was finally learning to bathe herself. The skin on her wrists was still tender, but otherwise didn’t hurt at all.

When Lena was done, Lillian pulled the drain and offered her a towel. Lena wrapped herself and padded on wet feet to the bed. A little red dress was sitting there, along with underwear and a black coat. Lena pulled them on quickly, turning to face Lillian. The woman just nodded and turned to leave. The sharp clicking of her footsteps carried down the hall until they stopped, and Lena scurried out to catch up with her. She followed the now-familiar path to the lab room. The chair was waiting, as usual, and Lillian shot her a glare that was enough to tell Lena that she was to get on it herself. She was too short — only her chest came up to the bottom of the chair — but she was able to push herself up on her arms with ease.

A stray doctor was in the room. “Get me a large needle,” Lillian said, and the doctor pulled open a drawer and produced one. Lillian grasped it, somewhat with glee, and took slow steps towards Lena. “There is one final test. I am going to find your weak spot.”

Lena swallowed, raised her chin and prepared herself to bear it. There was nothing more she could do. Lillian poked each muscle in her body, sometimes going through the dress to find them. She got through Lena’s arms, back, and stomach, finding that Lena wouldn’t even flinch. Blood pooled in each little wound but coagulated and began healing much faster than any of Lena’s cuts had before. Lillian then moved onto the right leg. Each prod was painless. The front of the left leg was also fine, and the back of Lena’s thigh. But the calf — _oh_ did that _hurt_. Lena shrieked in pain and tears sprung to her eyes immediately. It was sharp and hot and wracked through her body. Thankfully, Lillian removed the needle quickly and stepped back.

“The chip, please.” An oddly shaped syringe and needle were placed in Lillian’s outstretched palm and Lillian connected them before quickly returning to Lena’s leg. She put the end of the needle where the last one had left a hole, then injected something round and foreign into Lena’s skin. It was patched up with a bandage, and then Lillian was backing away to a table. “The device I have placed in your leg is an electro-hypernervous device. I have a remote for it, and I will have that remote with me at all times. If you step out of line, you will be receive a shock, the intensity of which I do not know.” Lillian turned around with a pair of thick white tights. She began slipping them over Lena’s feet and up her legs. “You ought to hope you never find out, either.”

With that, Lillian gave Lena a little pair of black patent shoes and waited for the young girl to put them on. After, she beckoned with her arm, and Lena hopped off of the chair to follow. They walked out of the lab, down a brightly lit hallway, and out a door. The air was cold, and Lena wrapped her coat tighter around her body. A black car sat on the road, the driver standing outside. It was growing dark; the little burning end of his cigarette glowed through a cloud of smoke. He dropped it on the ground as Lillian moved to get in the car and he crushed it with his foot.

Lena followed Lillian in, somewhat hesitantly. The last time she had gotten in a car like that, she had been taken to the worst place on Earth.

“We don’t have all day, child,” Lillian snapped. Lena scrambled into the car and sat properly in her seat as the door slammed next to her. The driver got in the front, started the car with a small roar, and sped off.

The ride was only a few minutes long. Lena was shaking, both from the lingering cold seeping through the glass windows of the car and from the uncertain fear that coursed through her. When the car stopped, Lena froze. Outside the window was a grand building of stone, lit up with unseen lights. A few people stood outside the large golden doors smoking and laughing. Lena could hear their voices clearly, gruff and warm. The car door was opened by two men in red jackets, one extending a hand to Lena. She flinched and cowered back, but the man just smiled and lifted her out with gentle arms.

“There you are, sweetheart,” he said, his brown eyes shining with mirth. Lillian stepped out behind her, taking the hand of the other man and nodding at him. “Merry Christmas, enjoy your evening.”

Lillian barely spared him a glance before taking Lena’s hand in her grip and pulling the young girl up the stone steps. The men and women outside all stopped to stare at the newest arrivals, pulling close to whisper before flashing their biggest smiles. Lillian didn’t even look their way. One of the doors was pulled open and a rush of hot air hit Lena’s face, along with the sounds of raucous laughter and elegant music. Lillian tugged her inside, and their coats were taken.

It was all a whirlwind to Lena, a great big commotion; she could smell a hundred types of perfume, could hear snippets of different conversations at once. They all swarmed in her head until she brought her hands up to her ears. Lillian _tsked_ and ripped her hands away. The room was filled with men and women of all ages dressed to their best. Women wore long gowns with diamonds dripping from their throats, men were fitted in black tuxes with festively colored bow ties. Everyone held glasses full of purple or clear substances — Lena came dangerously close to one glass and almost fainted from the tangy scent of it.

A tall woman with dark hair approached Lillian, swaying on high heels and carrying a full glass of something red.

“Lillian, darling! I haven’t seen you in ages!” She leaned forward and kissed Lillian’s cheek. Lillian pulled back with a tightlipped smile.

“Diane, good to see you,” Lillian said, her voice clipped. The woman — Diane — glanced down and noticed the young girl at Lillian’s feet.

“And who might you be?” she asked in a voice considerably higher than before. She leaned down and came close to Lena’s eye level. Lena could smell something sour on her breath. Lena took a small step back and wrinkled her nose, at which Lillian glared.

“My adoptive daughter, Lena,” Lillian introduced. “We just got her recently. It’s been a bit of an adjustment for her. That’s why we were late this evening, actually.”

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Miss Lena. And how generous of you to open your home to an orphan, Lillian! Oh, you and Lionel must get together with Donny and me, we’ll have such a nice time.”

And then Diane was gone, and fast footsteps were pattering from behind them.

“Mommy, mommy!” Lillian was turning, then, her hand no longer gripping Lena, and she was crouching down to meet the height of the little blonde boy running towards them.

“Lex, my dear boy,” Lillian purred as she hugged the boy tightly. He was tall, taller than Lena, but still young. His eyes mirrored his mother’s — blue and cold — but in a way that was far more inviting. Lillian pulled back and stood, brushing bits of his hair through her fingers. “Don’t you look handsome? Where is your father?”

Lex pointed to a tall man stepping through the crowd. “Lillian,” the man said warmly, stepping around Lex and giving the woman a soft kiss. “Is your business taken care of?”

“It is.” Lillian gestured to Lena, and suddenly all eyes were on her. She shrunk into herself, crossed her arms to protect herself. “This is Lena.”

“Well, Lena, it is good to finally meet you,” the man said. He picked Lena up into a warm hug, and she squirmed. Her legs kicked out and the man winced and laughed and put her back on the ground. “I’m Lionel, your father. And this is your big brother, Lex.”

Lex’s eyes scanned her, narrowing, appraising her. Then he noticed how she shook, he noticed the trepidation in her eyes, and his gaze softened into something close to pity.

“Hi, Lena.” He didn’t hug her like Lionel did, didn’t make sudden movements that would scare her, but he did smile at her. “Would you like to come play with the other kids?” He looked to his parents for confirmation, and Lillian eyed Lena pointedly before nodding consent. Gently, Lex took Lena’s hand and let her fall into step with him. His grip was nothing like Lillian’s — it was soft and hesitant and grounding. “So, how old are you?” Lena didn’t answer, too wary of her own voice. “Hey, it’s okay, you can talk to me.”

Lena smiled, just a bit. “I’m four.”

“I’m eight. Well, I’m seven and a half, but that’s basically eight.” Lex led them into a room off of the main room. This one was quieter, with a movie playing on the largest television screen Lena had seen and some kids playing with toy dinosaurs. “Do you want to play or watch the movie? I’ll do whatever you want to do.”

The kids playing with the dinosaurs were running into each other, and they were too loud for Lena. She looked at the movie flashing on the screen, something with little elves and a man with a white beard in a business suit.

“I’d like to watch the movie,” Lena said quietly. 

Lex grinned. “Good choice. This one is called _The Santa Clause_ , it’s really funny.” They walked over to where a single beanbag was left empty. Lex picked Lena up and propped her on the beanbag, then settled himself in beside her. “Comfortable?”

Lena nodded, biting her lip but smiling all the same. She brought her legs to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, silently falling into the movie. Lex smoothed the hair out of her eyes and patted her shoulder before doing the same.

One of the elves did something funny, and Lena laughed, and Lex laughed, and for the first time in her life Lena felt like she had a family.

 

* * *

 

The local newspaper was pinned up on the announcements board, the headline bolded and underlined.

_LUTHOR BOY WINS NATIONAL SCIENCE AWARD_

Lena stood below the announcements board, surrounded by other students, marveling at the picture of her brother that had been featured. His blonde hair was shaved off, save for a little at the top, his suit was pressed, tie plain and formal, his mouth in a hard line — though Lena could see the joy in his eyes. The article stretched below it, outlining his academic successes and noting that he was set to go to the most prestigious college, and then was to take the family company.

The kids around Lena whispered about how great Lex was, how handsome and smart he was; they loved Lex, and so did Lena. But, they didn’t know how Lena had stayed up most nights going over formulas with Lex. They didn’t know that she had helped Lex develop his theory and build the prototype. They didn’t know that, when Lex was stuck, he turned to Lena for help — Lena, who had entered kindergarten early and proceeded to skip over it, who wasn’t yet fourteen and already in her sophomore year of high school.

She wasn’t jealous of Lex — she knew Lex deserved that award — but she wanted _some_ recognition. Her mother always brushed her aside, her father didn’t see past her looks, and her teachers and peers only saw her as the shy nerd who did well on paper but didn’t shine in person. She just couldn’t find the place that she fit in.

Though trying to fit in anywhere was hard when Lena was, well, _different_.

Every sound within a quarter-mile from Lena came to her loud and clear. Every scent was apparent immediately. Every light was just a little too bright. It was always present, the intensity of her senses, and she had gotten used to it over time, though it meant that she was a bit subdued. Sometimes, however, it became too much. A sensory overload would bring her to tears, the throb in her head too intense to bear; at times, it would make her scream. People would stare, would laugh, would spread rumors about her. Lex would take her somewhere dark and quiet and hold her until she felt better. He had never experienced what Lena had suffered for years, but he cared, he understood. He didn’t know the truth.

Whatever Lillian had done when Lena was young, it caused this.

Lena resented her for it.

Lena _feared_ her for it.

The other students began filing into class after they looked at the headline. Lena waited until most of the group was gone before she went inside. The only desk left was in the back corner, as usual. Lena dutifully took her spot, placing her two binders and one textbook neatly on the corner of her desk. She pulled her pen out of her skirt pocket — _thankfully_ the boarding school had put pockets in their skirts — and prepared to sit through another boring algebra class. The teacher hadn’t arrived yet, and the class had erupted into mayhem. In her three all-girls classes, free time was spent gossiping and laughing, but in co-ed classes, the boys managed to break one or two objects and would snicker when they threw things.

Lena sighed and pulled a piece of paper from her binder. She could hear the little scratch of her pen on paper as she sketched small things — minute cities, tiny people with smiles on their faces.

“—He’s just so talented.” 

Lena — through no fault of her own — picked up on a conversation happening between four girls near her.

“Can you believe they even come from the same family? He’s so smart and nice and outgoing.”

“She’s just—”

“Weird. Really weird.”

“I heard she was adopted.”

“So she’s a charity case then?” a girl snarked. “Makes sense.”

Lena’s pen snapped harshly, and a few people stopped to look at her. Ink flowed over her hands and onto the desk, dripping like black blood. It spattered on her white shirt and fell in large drops on her red skirt. By then, everyone in the room was glaring at her — she didn’t even need to look up to tell. Slowly, carefully, she gathered her books in her arms, turned towards the door, and left. She could hear the gasps and laughs behind her.

Once she was in the hall, she let herself move quickly, nearly running. Tears welled up behind her eyes but she didn’t let them fall. No, Luthors were above the weak act of crying. She hugged her books tighter to her chest, ran faster than before, and, turning the corner, didn’t see the body coming towards her.

“Lena!” Lex was thrown off balance and backwards, and Lena was able to reach out and grab his arm to steady him. He was righted easily, finding his balance and readjusting his blazer.

“S-sorry Lex,” Lena whispered, looking at him under teary eyes. He looked at her, noticed her clothes, and grabbed her arm to tug her away and towards the girls dorms.

“What happened?” he asked in a hushed voice.

“Oh, I accidentally broke a pen.” There wasn’t much else to say, really. She raised an ink-stained hand to her face to tuck her long hair behind her ear but thought the better of it and let it drop to her side.

“You _accidentally_ broke a pen?” Lex gasped in disbelief.

Lena sighed. “It was nothing. Just a mishap. Forget about it, Lex.”

Her brother stopped suddenly, pulling her with him. He brought them closer to the dark wooden wall and lowered his voice exponentially.

“I know Mother said not to talk about your… abilities.” Lena winced. “But maybe you should start — I don’t know — figuring out how to use them.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Lena scoffed. She sidestepped her brother and started walking towards the dorm door at the end of the hall. His exhale was audible, exasperated, _worried_ , and his steps were quick to catch up with her.

“Look, I met a boy over the summer. He has _abilities_ , too, and he wants to try and use them for good. To help people,” Lex said. He reached out and took Lena’s hand as they reached the door. “You could do great things, Lena.”

Lena looked at her brother’s blue eyes, so hopeful and warm. Lex was the one that could do great things. He could have the world at his feet, and Lena would just be Lena. That’s how things were supposed to be. But hearing his encouragement, seeing the pride he reserved just for her, made her think that, maybe, she could be that, too.

“Thanks, Lex.” She smiled, only a little, and squeezed his hand. “Now, go to your physics class. You’re late already.”

“Professor Hammel won’t mind,” Lex laughed, walking backwards and away from Lena, “he loves me.”

“Everyone loves you, Lex,” Lena called. Lex dismissed her comment with a coy wave of his hand.

The dorm door creaked in the silent space as Lena opened it and stepped into the hallway. Doors stretched down the sides of the wooden walls, and other hallways branched off as well. A common room was in the center of it all, filled with books and games, and even a small television. It was neat at this hour. Later, when the girls would be talking or doing work before bed, their combined voices would create a symphony of togetherness that never featured Lena.

Her dorm room was on the other side of the common room, the first door on the left after entering the hallway. It had a nice view of the bay, was spacious enough. Lillian had payed the school extra for her children to have single rooms, and for that, Lena was thankful.

She opened the door and threw her books on the desk, tugged her stained shirt over her head, and collapsed on the bed. It hadn’t been a long day; all her other classes had gone as usual without tests or quizzes. Still, Lena felt her eyes drooping. Sighing, she reached over to her bedside table, pulled a timer out of the drawer, and set it for an hour. Then, she settled under the covers on her bed and slept.

 

* * *

 

With a new change of clothes, a hand scrubbed raw, and a refreshed mind, Lena walked down the halls of the boarding school. The class change was about to be signaled, and she quickened her pace, trying to get to her destination before the flow of students caused traffic in the halls. She rounded the corner just as the bell rang, thankfully away from the classrooms. 

The library was in a separate building — much to the dismay of the other students. Lena liked the walk, liked being able to go outside and feel the fresh air brush over her skin.

It was a cold day, though, and Lena wrapped her arms around herself. Winter was approaching quickly; the grounds were lined with frost in the morning, the trees near the bay were bare. Red and orange leaves floated through the water with the evening breeze.

Opening the library doors, Lena was hit with the warmth of the library. It had a homely feel, with dark walls, soft, cushy furniture, and a fireplace in each of the study areas. The librarians were rarely around, mostly convening at the front desk or in the office. There was a woman at the front desk just then — she was new, young, blonde — and she smiled at Lena, shivered when the door let in a gust of air. Lena gave her a nod before continuing on through the space. The main room was large, full of stacks of books, and it broke off into six other, smaller, areas. A few students were sitting in the plush arm chairs or reading in between the stacks.

Lena reached the third study area and quickened her pace just a hare. Because, the faster she walked, the closer she got to her space. Two grey armchairs, the fireplace just paces away, the scent of old books, and—

“Hey, Lena.”

Her voice was warm and inviting, her dark eyes were smiling, her black hair was shining in the flickering firelight. She reached to her side and picked up a white paper cup, steam rising out of the small hole in the lid, and extended it to Lena. Lena’s shoulders relaxed, a small smile gracing her lips.

“How did you manage to get here before me?” Lena asked jokingly. She took the cup, their fingers brushing, and brought it to her lips, feeling the heat hit her face. “And have time to get coffee.”

“I might have left class early.” Lena sat in the chair next to her companion, angled it so that she could face her better.

“Savitari Basu, you rebel,” Lena quipped with a faux gasp. Savitari laughed, head back and eyes sparkling. Lena laughed, too. After, she brought the coffee to her lips and took a sip. It was mint, fresh and sharp and sweet on Lena’s tongue. She hummed. “You’re too good to me, Savi.”

“You’ve been tutoring me, every week, for free. Getting you coffee is the least I can do to thank you,” Savitari said. She shifted on her chair, leaning closer to Lena.

Lena smiled, dropped her gaze. “Well, this is the best part of my week. So really, I should be thanking you.”

“For what?” Savitari reached out and took Lena’s hand in her own. It was warm, so warm, and Lena tingled from the touch. “Lena, I love spending time with you. Even if it’s just to study for my chemistry class. And maybe I want to spend time with you outside of our sessions.”

Lena’s eyes lifted at that, her mouth opened and closed, before she could form words. She turned her hand, laced her fingers through Savitari’s.

“You would want to do that?”

“What makes you think I wouldn’t?” Savitari raised a perfectly thin eyebrow and tilted her head.

“Most kids at this school wouldn’t touch me with a ten-foot pole,” Lena said, eyes never leaving Savitari’s. The girl just scoffed, squeezed Lena’s hand, and ran a thumb over her skin.

“The kids at this school are just mean. They don’t know you like I do,” Savitari replied quietly. It was then that Lena noticed how close they were, how Savitari’s eyelashes cast thin shadows on her dark, smooth cheeks. She could see the little flecks of gold in her eyes, could sense Savi’s breath on her skin, could feel her eyes flicking down to Lena’s lips.

It was Lena — Lena who closed that little bit of space, Lena who threaded her hand through Savitari’s soft hair, Lena who pulled her only friend closer. Savitari kissed her back. Lena wasn’t sure her heart could keep up its violent pounding, but it must have managed to, because she was still kissing Savitari, and Savitari was still kissing her.

And in a second, it was over. Someone behind a bookshelf gasped, dropped their book. Lena and Savitari jerked back to find a girl standing there, another one rounding the bookshelf to see what was going on. Lena’s eyes were wide. The two girls by the books looked down shyly and scurried off, giggling on their way. Lena turned to Savitari. Savitari couldn’t even manage one of her beautiful smiles.

It was all over.

 

* * *

 

“Homosexuality.” Lillian’s jaw was clenched, her tone clipped. “You have gotten yourself expelled from the most prestigious boarding school in the country because of… indecency? Unacceptable.” Lillian reached up to the chain around her neck, pulled the little black fob from beneath her shirt, and ran her thumb over it. Lena flinched.

“I’m sorry.” It was all Lena could say. She wouldn’t make excuses, wouldn’t say it was a mistake, because it wasn’t.

“‘Sorry’ isn’t good enough.” Lillian pressed her thumb against the fob sharply, and Lena’s vision went black. Her entire body seized up with the pain. It was as though a thousand needles were being plunged into her skin, piercing deeper as each second passed. She couldn’t even tell when it was over, because her body still tingled with muted pain. Her vision was clearing, and Lillian was above her, a menacing glare on her face. The ringing in her ears subsided before Lillian spoke again. “Listen carefully, Lena. Things are about to change. You will never see the light of day again. You will stay in my lab, you will hone your abilities, and you will follow my orders. Step out of line, and I will shock you again, and for far longer next time. Have I made myself clear?” Lena nodded her head violently. “Use your words, Lena.”

“Y-yes,” Lena choked out, voice still strained. Her breaths came out in short gasps, her chest stinging and constricted.

Lillian put a hand on Lena’s cheek. “Good. I’m glad we’re on the same page.” She moved back to the other side of the limo as Lena gained her strength.

“What do you want with me?” Lena asked, managing to lift her head from the limo seat. “Why did you give me abilities in the first place?” 

Lillian chuckled, returning the fob to the inside of her shirt. “There is a plague in this world. It’s been growing for years, but no one has done anything to rid us of it. Aliens are coming to this planet, living among us, taking our jobs and homes.”

“Aliens,” Lena breathed. “You expect me to believe that?”

“I don’t need you to believe me. I just need you to do what I say.” Lillian raised a manicured eyebrow, waiting for Lena to respond, to challenge. Lena just clenched her jaw. “Earth belongs to humans. My organization, Project Cadmus, is dedicated to protecting that. And, with our new weapon — you — we can finally rid the Earth of alien life.”

 

* * *

 

A month into Lena’s training, and she was running for her life.

Bruises and lacerations covered every inch of her skin, yet she couldn’t feel them, never felt them. She was running faster than she ever had before, and her heart was barely pounding. Footsteps rang in her ears, farther behind her, closing in with each passing second. Lena pressed on, used her increased strength and endurance to carry herself through the dark halls of Project Cadmus.

An office stood at the end of the hall. Lena tried the door, found it to be locked. The footsteps were coming closer. She took a breath, closed her eyes, and pushed. The lock broke with a crash. Lena didn’t have time to think about closing the door. She scanned the room, looking for a weapon, a key, _something_ to help. A black telephone was sitting on the desk among papers and files. She rushed for that, miscalculated her speed and sent papers flying. The phone fell off of its base, hanging by the cord over the desk. Lena snatched it up, typed the number for the boys dorm at the boarding school, and held the phone to her ear.

It rang once, and Lena chewed on her bottom lip.

It rang twice, and Lena could taste blood on her tongue.

It rang a third time, and the footsteps were just down the hall.

“ _Hello?_ ” It was a deep voice, one that Lena was sure she could have recognized if she’d had time to pay attention.

“Is Lex there? Put Lex on the phone,” Lena demanded, almost out of breath.

“ _Who is this?_ ” the boy on the other end asked.

“It doesn’t matter, just get Lex.”

“ _Okay, calm down._ ” The receiver was muffled for a bit, and then, “ _Someone find Luthor. Tell him a girl’s on the phone asking for him._ ”

“Hurry up, hurry up…” Lena muttered to herself. She chewed on her lip and tasted more blood, but she couldn’t care. The footsteps were just five paces away, moving closer, pressing in.

“There you are, Lena.” Lillian’s voice reached her before she even stepped in the doorway, and there was the shock. Lena dropped the phone, fell to the ground, curled into a ball.

Her chest was tight, she couldn’t breath, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t—

“ _Hello? Is anyone there? Lena? Hello, Lena?_ ” Lex’s voice came through the receiver on the phone — small and tinny and far away, but it was there. Lena tried to stretch her hand out to grasp the phone, but all she could manage was a whimper and a twitch of her finger.

Lillian’s smug smile stepped into view then. She tutted at Lena before reaching down to pick up the phone. It hit the base with a _clack_ , and Lex’s voice was gone.

“How clever,” Lillian said. She picked Lena up from the ground and propped her against the desk to bring her to eye level. Her thumb swiped at Lena’s lip, coming away bloody. “What did I say about stepping out of line?”

“I-I c-can’t— I-it h-hurts—”

“You aren’t getting away that easily, Lena. You’ll never get away.”

 

* * *

 

The armor felt awkward on her chest. It was tight and odd, and Lena wasn’t sure how she would manage to move around in it. It wasn’t that bulky — a metal bodice that, in the front, peaked between her breasts, then wrapped over her back and shoulders to the front, where it covered just the top of her chest. She had metal cuffs on her wrists that held the obscure poisons the Cadmus doctors would supply her with to kill her targets. A tight black bodysuit covered the rest of her body, and a hooded cape hung over her shoulders.

Lena looked at herself in the mirror of her cell, a disgusted frown pulling at her lips. Over the five years she had been at Cadmus, she had grown, gotten taller and fuller. Her jaw was sharp, her green eyes deep and dark, her black hair long and silky and pulled back in a tight ponytail. Her skin was pale from the lack of light. She looked like a killer.

But that’s what she was, wasn’t she?

That’s what Lillian wanted her to be. Lillian made sure that every condition Lena faced drove her to the pit of madness. She kept her locked in dark rooms, forced her to train and work and fight before she was able to eat just a morsel of food. The only people she interacted with viewed her not as a person, but as a weapon.

When Lionel Luthor died, Lillian had gotten more strict. When Lex took over LuthorCorp and joined the cause, Lillian sang his praises. But, she never let Lena see him. Lena would ask to talk to him, would beg, would claw and fight to see her brother, but Lillian denied her. Lex never made any attempts to see her, either. Lena was convinced that he had forgotten about her. He must not have cared about her.

Footsteps rang through the hall, and Lena flinched. It was Lillian’s gait, one that she had gotten used to over the years. Other footsteps followed her, doctors from the lab, trainers from the security division. They opened her cell door, immediately seizing her by the arms. Lillian had the fob — that horrible device — in her hand as a precaution. Lena let them take her, pull her out of the cell and down the hall.

A large door was open, and Lena was pushed through it, stepping outside. _Outside_. Lena hadn’t breathed fresh air in five hears, hadn’t seen the night sky since she was thirteen years old and still believed there was some good in the world. Lena threw her head back, took a big breath, smiled despite herself. The men dragging her just ignored her and kept going. They reached a big black van with open doors and threw Lena into the cab. The entourage of doctors and Lillian got in behind her, then the doors were slammed closed, the night sky muted through tinted windows.

Lena’s hands were grasped, and the Cadmus doctors began stocking her cuffs with small vials and needles. Lillian produced a tablet from her arms and tapped on the screen.

“The target is a simple kill, just an Olmuan. He might put up a fight, so be prepared, but all you need to do is inject him with the serum and that should take care of it,” Lillian said, reading from the tablet. “We’re going to the edge of Metropolis, a residential area, so not many witnesses should be around. We’ll be waiting down the street for you.”

Lena only nodded. She couldn’t think about what she was about to do. She just had to stare out the windows at the night sky.

 

* * *

 

The city looked beautiful from the rooftops. Lena hadn’t seen the skyline since before her sophomore year. She had always loved the lights, even if they blocked out the sight of the stars. Lights meant that people were alive, were working or talking or laughing.

That’s what Lena’s target was doing at the moment. He was in the brightly lit kitchen with his wife at his side. His two children were playing a game of chess on the floor — they reminded Lena of herself and Lex. The target — the Olmuan man — was pulling the garbage bag out of the bin, was tying the top. Lena’s stomach clenched, and she wished that he wouldn’t take out the garbage tonight.

But he left the kitchen, and was out of sight for a few moments, before he opened the back door of the brownstone. Lena could see him clearly from her perch. He looked completely harmless. She considered leaving him be. She could tell Lillian that she failed, that he got away. But Lillian would never believe that.

Lena leapt off the roof silently, her cape flapping behind her. She landed just behind the target in a crouch, extending her hand to the ground to steady herself. The Olmuan turned, then, and before he could spot her, she rushed forward and tackled him, throwing him on the ground. His strength matched hers, but Lena had the element of surprise; by the time he began to thrash and fight back, Lena had a vial out and she was slamming it into his heart. He spluttered, seized up, then fell back onto the ground. He didn’t move again.

Lena stood and stumbled back, suddenly lightheaded. She braced herself on the wooden fence that surrounded the home and gagged. Her breaths came in short gasps and her heart pounded. She just killed a man. An alien man, yes, but still a _man_ , with kids and a wife and a home. She just destroyed a life.

It took her a few moments to collect herself, but when she did, she couldn’t look at the Oluman. Her mind was working at one hundred miles a second. She _killed_ someone. That was all she could think. If Lillian was going to make her do this — if this was to be Lena’s life — something had to change. Her mind couldn’t take it. She was tortured for years, taught to fight, to be carnal and instinctual and to not hold back. But Lena would always hold back, as long as she was a person, as long as she could think. So, Lena did the only thing she could do to survive.

She stopped thinking.

 

* * *

 

Three years later, Lena was woken up in the night by a great commotion. The sounds of crashing and commanding and yelling carried into her cell. She stood immediately from her bed and tugged on a black shirt and pants, slipping on her metal cuffs. Keys jangled in the lock, and then Lillian was standing in the dark.

“Gather your things. We need to leave.” Lillian started pulling Lena’s armor off of the side table near the door. Lena didn’t move. “Now,” her mother hissed. Lena started picking up her few clothes and make up products that Lillian allowed her to have (“Luthors must always keep up their appearances”). Lillian threw a duffel bag on the floor next to her, and Lena placed her things in there.

“Why are we leaving? What happened?” Lena finished putting her things in the bag and zipped it up. She slipped on her shoes before following Lillian out the door and into the dimly lit hallway.

“Your brother has gotten himself arrested.”

Lena felt nothing — she hadn’t felt much but anger in years. But there was something nagging in her heart, like a sadness, a fear, a longing. It was gone in a moment. She had trained herself to shut feelings off, calling upon the years of torture and pain and abuse when she needed to unleash her power on a difficult alien target.

Lillian led her on a familiar path through the Cadmus building. As they passed the various labs, Lena could see files being packed away, computers being destroyed, and fires being lit. Equipment was carried down the hallway and towards the loading area. Lena and Lillian got in the back of a van full of security men. When the doors closed, the van sped off.

“Superman did this,” Lillian snarled. “That smug, arrogant… _thing_. He has destroyed your brother’s legacy. He has been working to take us down. Remember this, Lena.” Lillian eyed Lena, and Lena clenched her jaw. “Because of Superman, and his kind, we have to live like this.”

“Where are we going?” Lena asked.

Lillian nearly growled. “National City.”

 

* * *

 

Lena had never seen her mother in such a state. Lillian was stressed, on edge, lashing out at whomever crossed her path. She was roped into doing press to make sure she seemed innocent. She had to publicly distance herself from her own son. It was taking a toll on her.

By extension, then, it was taking a toll on Lena.

Because Lena was Lillian’s punching bag. Lillian’s forms of torture ranged from physical — Lena couldn’t really feel pain anywhere but her leg, though Lillian got creative — to unadulterated insults and jibes about how she could never compare to Lex. Lena took it all silently, letting her anger fester and grow until even she needed an outlet. That outlet became the very hero who her mother despised — Superman. He was the reason her mother was driven to such actions. He was the reason they were forced out of the only city that Lena knew.

They stayed like that for two years, hidden outside of National City. Lena rarely left the hideout, only to kill the occasional alien every few months. Lillian wanted to keep a low profile in order to avoid being detected and tracked down.

It was the emergence of Supergirl that brought Cadmus out of its latent state. Lillian was threatened by Superman’s cousin, thought that she would bring the public to blindly trust the aliens among them. Supergirl was even more dangerous, it seemed, than her cousin. Flying around like a god, condemning Lillian’s acts, calling her a terrorist. Lillian took out her frustrations on Lena. Lena hated Supergirl even more.

Lena encountered her once on a mission. She was out tracking a Vuh’ua when she heard the flutter of a cape overhead. Lena had looked to the sky, saw the blur of blue and red and the bit of blonde. Supergirl was flying low, patrolling. Maybe she would see Lena, try and stop her. Lena would fight the hero, and maybe she would win.

Maybe she would die, and be put out of her misery.

 

* * *

 

Lena got her wish a few months later.

Lillian and Cadmus were getting daring as time went on. They released videos directly threatening Supergirl and the alien population of National City. They hired local thugs to attack high-profile alien supporters with alien weapons. They even let it slip that they had a mascot of their own — Lena. Dubbed as Priestess, she became a symbol of the fight against alien life on Earth.

After multiple direct threats against Supergirl, the hero finally responded. She sent out a warning in an interview with CatCo Worldwide Media that had Lillian seething. It was a call to battle. And a battle, Lillian had said, was what Supergirl was going to get.

It was a chilly winter evening when Lena stepped into the National City park. She checked her cuffs, made sure the kryptonite darts were still tucked in there. Alien guns were strapped to her belt, as well as a cord to help catch Supergirl. Lillian wanted the Kryptonian alive and back at the Cadmus facility.

Behind Lena, two planned explosions went off, and in seconds, a streak of red was flying towards the sources, checking to make sure no one was hurt. Lena turned and watched her from beneath her hood. Supergirl landed, then, ten feet from Lena and stopped, waited.

“Priestess.” Supergirl’s voice was firm and strong, like the rest of her body. Her blonde hair fell over her shoulders in perfect tresses, her eyes were bright and blue, her face soft. “Give it up. You know you can’t hurt me.” She was almost smug, just as Lillian said she would be.

Lena chuckled. “Don’t be so sure about that.” She drew one of the alien guns from her belt with great speed, aimed and fired it expertly. It struck Supergirl’s arm, and the hero cried out before righting herself again. Lena aimed and fired again, and this time Supergirl flew out of the way and landed behind her. Lena turned and clenched her fists.

She ran forward, then, and her speed surprised Supergirl, caught her off guard. Lena was able to tackle her and land a punch. Supergirl was phased but didn’t flinch, and the crack of Lena’s bones shattering filled the air. Lena didn’t feel a thing. Supergirl pushed her off and over, punched Lena in the gut just as hard, but Lena didn’t move. Supergirl’s brow crinkled in confusion. Lena ignored the way the hero’s gaze made her chest constrict, and she stood up, taking Supergirl with her. She plunged a kryptonite dart into Supergirl’s arm and threw her on the ground. Supergirl cried out. The color drained from her face, and her chest rose and fell with shuddering breaths. Lena reached for the cord on her belt, ready to haul away the alien.

“Now!” Supergirl yelled to no one in particular. Lena heard the sound of two shots being fired, and darts landed on her arms. The needles were thick and able to pierce her body suit. Immediately, she was hit with a wave of nausea, her head swimming. Supergirl was standing, then, and advancing towards Lena.

Lena ran with all her might, and used her incredible strength to leap onto the side of a building on the edge of the park. Her vision was blurring, but still she climbed up the metal, grabbing onto window ledges. Supergirl flew behind her, caught up to her, and shouted to her again. Lena couldn’t even hear her by then.

Then a sharp pain pierced her left leg and spread over her body. It was a pain like no other, hot and full and biting. Blood dripped down her leg, and her grip on the building slipped, and she was falling, falling, falling.

Something solid hit her back, two arms holding her up, and her hood slid off of her head. Lena looked into Supergirl’s blue eyes, saw the warmth and shine that she hadn’t seen in years

Then her vision went black.


	2. The Sky

Music was playing when she awoke, and a soft voice was singing along.

_I really can’t stay_

_Baby it’s cold outside._

_I’ve got to go away_

_Baby it’s cold outside_ …

Lena opened her eyes and found herself staring at something white. She looked to her side to see the back of a grey sofa. On her other side was a coffee table covered in books, and behind that was a large television. Everything was brightly lit and vibrant. Lena sat up quickly and put a hand to her head. There was an ache there, and a throbbing in her left calf, too. Her right hand was wrapped up in tape and gauze. Her bodysuit was still on, but her armor was missing, as were her weapons.

Finally, Lena stood and turned behind her and spotted the girl. She was blonde — her hair was pulled up in a bun, and a white knit sweater hung from her shoulders. A pan was in one of her hands, a spatula in the other, and she danced a little as she cooked. Lena stood and waited until the girl spun around.

She stopped when she spotted Lena standing. “Oh, you’re awake.”

Lena recognized her immediately, though she was without the normal red and blue suit. Lena’s fists curled.

“Supergirl,” she growled, though it was without bite. Supergirl dumped the contents of the pan onto a plate and put the pan back down on the stove behind her before answering.

“Well, yes, that’s me. But you can call me Kara.” The girl — Supergirl, _Kara_ — moved to a speaker and pressed a button, and the music stopped. Then, she slowly moved closer to Lena, hands in front of her. “I know you’re probably scared and in pain, but I don’t want to hurt you. I _won’t_ hurt you, as long as you don’t try to hurt me. Sound good?” Lena tensed up, thought about it for a moment, then nodded sharply and relaxed. Kara visibly released a breath and moved back into the kitchen. “I made you scrambled eggs and bacon, I figured that you would like it. I have other food, a lot of other food, if you want something else.”

Lena took a breath and stepped closer. “I haven’t had bacon in years,” she said quietly. Kara looked at her with raised eyebrows, but said nothing. She placed the full plate in front of Lena and watched as Lena sat on one of the stools at the island.

“I gave you a lot of food, you don’t have to eat it all,” Kara said. All of the smugness and posturing from the night before was gone, replaced by calm words and gentle movements.

Lena ignored her and dug in, shoveling the eggs onto her fork and eating. It wasn’t ladylike — she could imagine Lillian berating her for that — but she hadn’t had proper food in _years._ Kara watched intently for a few moments, until most of the food had disappeared from Lena’s plate. She cleared the setting and poured Lena a glass of water, setting two large pills next to the glass. “They’re for the pain. You were shot in the leg last night, and you broke your hand.”

“I couldn’t feel it.” Lena took the pills easily and drank the rest of her water, feeling her headache subside immediately. “My hand, I mean.”

“You’re impervious to pain?” Kara questioned with a tilt to her head.

“Everywhere but my left calf,” Lena admitted. She knew she shouldn’t be sharing this information with her enemy, but, well, the enemy had given her a comfortable place to rest and good food, and maybe Lena was tired of being combative all the time.

She wasn’t just tired. She was _exhausted_.

Kara took a seat next to Lena and propped her chin on her hand. “So, you are Lena Luthor.” It wasn’t a question, exactly, but it wasn’t a statement, either. Lena nodded once, eyes trained on the blue placemat beneath her hands. “It was hard to find that information. We were able to take a blood sample and match it to private records from a while ago. It seems that you disappeared for a few years.”

“I did,” Lena replied simply.

“And you work exclusively for Cadmus?” Kara asked.

“Yes.” Lena tensed once again, and Kara noticed. She placed a hand on Lena’s arm, gently pressing. “Aren’t you going to lock me up in one of your government facilities?”

“I could,” Kara said, “but I don’t think I’ll need to.” Kara got up and started moving around the kitchen again, rinsing off the pan and other dishes. “I think your past actions are horrible. The number of aliens that you killed, in Metropolis and National City, is staggering. But there’s something about you that makes me think it wasn’t really you. Maybe I’m being naive, and maybe you are an alien-hating killer.” She turned then and looked right into Lena’s eyes. “Maybe there’s something more. Am I wrong?”

And Lena looked away. She couldn’t hold Kara’s gaze, when those blue eyes had searched deep into her own and found the truth. It was answer enough for Kara, who just kept rinsing dishes, loading them into the dishwasher, humming as she went. Lena watched. It was perplexing, to find someone on the opposite side so willing to bend and change and _hope_ to find good in her. It was perplexing, and it was refreshing, and it was terrifying.

“I’d deserve it,” Lena said suddenly. Kara turned back around — closed the dishwasher door, because she was done by then — and studied Lena. “I may not hate aliens, but I killed them. And I hated you. I hated you and your cousin for what he did to—” The words caught in her throat, because it was more complicated than just the Super-Luthor feud. It was more complicated than Superman putting Lex in prison. It was the abuse that Lena endured stemming from that action. “How can you forgive me like this?”

Kara just shook her head, wiped her hands on a dish towel. “Someone has to.” She tilted her head away from the kitchen. “Come on, let’s get you some new clothes.”

Lena stood and followed Kara through the living area, into another room. The bed was large, the spread a pale pink with light blue pillows. A rack of clothes sat under the window, and a dresser lined the other wall. A full length mirror was positioned in one of the corners, and in it Lena caught sight of herself. Her face was bruised, her hair loose and messy. She turned away quickly.

Kara pulled out a pair of black pants from a drawer and added a white shirt and black underwear on top. She extended the clothes to Lena, who then took them gingerly.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. Kara just nodded and turned away.

“I didn’t think any of my bras would fit you, so you’ll have to go without until we can buy you some clothes.” 

Lena didn’t really mind. She placed the clothes on the bed and moved to unfasten the collar of her bodysuit. She couldn’t wrap her broken fingers around the button, and she struggled to grasp the zipper and pull it down.

Lena cleared her throat. “Could you help me, please?” Kara turned and nodded, though she looked a little reluctant as she walked behind Lena. Lena kept her chin up. 

Deft hands brushed her hair to the side, undid the button on her collar, then dragged the zipper down to the base of her spine. The bodysuit parted, allowing for cool air to hit Lena’s back, and she shivered. Kara pushed the suit down over her shoulders, gasping when she saw the skin there. Hundreds of scars had accumulated by then, mostly from Lillian’s blows during fits of rage, or punishments that Lena had never felt. Heat from Kara’s hand hovered over her skin, just barely touching.

“They did this to you?” Kara asked with a bit more steel in her voice than earlier.

“Yes,” Lena said, clenching her jaw.

Kara stepped to Lena’s front, then, and pulled the sleeves of the bodysuit down over her arms. She was careful not to disturb Lena’s broken hand, and though Lena wouldn’t have felt anything regardless, the action softened her, just a bit. They got the suit down to Lena’s waist, and she slipped the soft white shirt over her head before they continued. Kara peeled the rest of the suit off, easing it over Lena’s left leg when she got to it. Lena still hissed when the fabric was pulled away, even with the painkillers in her system. Kara handed her the underwear and then disappeared into a door just outside the room.

She returned with a bottle of clear liquid, a cloth, and gauze. “Sit on the bed, please.” Lena did as asked, and Kara knelt on the ground to remove the dressings that were already on Lena’s calf. Air hit Lena’s fresh wound and she jerked away. Kara just placed a soothing hand on her thigh before pressing the cloth to the opening of the bottle and tipping it until it was wet. “This might sting,” Kara warned before she pressed the cloth to the back of Lena’s leg. Lena hissed and grabbed the bedspread in her hands, tugged on it tightly until it nearly ripped. After the pain settled down, she suddenly remembered something.

“Did you get it out?”

“Get what out?” Kara asked, looking up at Lena as she rewrapped her calf.

“The device. It was in my leg, exactly where that wound is. Is it out?” Lena waited with bated breath while Kara searched her mind for what Lena was talking about.

“The doctors found a little metal chip in your leg, I think.” Kara’s eyebrows crinkled together in focus. “It was sort of round.”

Lena let out a breath. “Yes, that’s it.” She released the bedspread as Kara slipped the pants over Lena’s legs and up to her hips. Lena stood and pulled them up the rest of the way.

“What was it?” Kara questioned, stepping back to allow Lena space.

“An electro-hypernervous device. Upon activation, it delivered a shock. It was how they controlled me.” Lena lifted her eyes to meet Kara’s, and found pity lying beneath her sapphire gaze. Kara offered her something of a smile, and it was the loveliest sight Lena had seen in years. She sighed and looked around. “What time of year is it?”

“It’s November thirtieth,” Kara said. They lapsed into silence once again, Kara’s weight shifting a bit awkwardly, and Lena’s gaze flitting about the room. “Why don’t you rest a bit more? You can sleep in here, it should be more comfortable. We’ll talk later. I have a few things I’d like to know.”

Lena nodded, and Kara nodded as well. They stood there for a few more moments before Kara pulled the covers back on her bed. Lena didn’t move, so Kara just left. With a deep breath, Lena climbed onto the mattress and relaxed back into the pillows. It was so, _so_ comfortable, far better than the bed in her Cadmus cell. Lena buried her face further into the pillows and let out a contented sigh, her eyes fluttering closed.

She fell asleep to the sweet scent of vanilla and safety.

 

* * *

 

“I’m sorry. I just… I need a few days.” 

The now familiar tenor of Kara’s voice carried into the bedroom and brought Lena out of her sleep. It was low and breathy, almost frustrated, and it began to alarm Lena. She carefully got up from the bed and walked towards the open door, her steps silent. Kara was standing at the kitchen counter, her hand to the side of her head. “No, you can’t come over. I don’t want to overwhelm her, I just— Mon-El, I don’t need you to protect me.”

Lena chuckled lightly, and Kara spun around, eyes wide as though she had been caught. She held a sleek black phone to her ear, from which Lena could hear the faint sound of a deep voice chattering away. Kara wasn’t paying attention to a word he was saying.

“Look, I have to go. I’ll call you… soon. Yeah. Bye, Mon-El.” Kara sighed and tapped on the screen of her phone, bit her lip and looked down. Her hair glowed gold in the orange light of sunset and Lena had to look away. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t.”

Kara put her phone in her pocket and moved into the small living area. “Here, sit down, we need to talk.” Kara sat on the sofa and gestured to the open armchair across from it. Lena crossed her arms over her chest and sat on the soft furniture, back straight, jaw locked.

“What do you want to know?” Lena asked. Kara straightened herself, her heroic persona back in place.

“We’ll start off simple. How did you become involved in Cadmus?” Kara watched, waited, focused only on Lena. And Lena gripped her biceps tightly to ground herself, to keep her feelings shut off, to recount her memories without showing weakness.

“I was adopted by the Luthors when I was four years old,” Lena bit out. “It was Lillian specifically, I don’t think my father knew what was going on, and Lex was too young. She brought me to a facility. It was the Cadmus base outside of Metropolis.”

“So Lillian is involved with Cadmus as well?”

Lena scoffed. “She heads Cadmus. She _is_ Cadmus.” Kara nodded in understanding, and she leaned forward.

“Lillian Luthor adopted you, took you to the Cadmus base. Then what?” Kara asked.

“They tested me,” Lena said simply, “injected me with a serum. Gave me these abilities and then let me go. I became one of the Luthors, attending business events and studying at the finest boarding school. Lionel doted upon me, Lillian ignored me, and Lex took care of me. When I was thirteen, I was expelled from school. Lillian took me—” Lena paused, breathed, swallowed thickly and continued. “She locked me up in the facility. They spent years training me to be their weapon. That’s what I became.”

She couldn’t look Kara in the eye anymore. Lena couldn’t bare her dark soul to this alien — this girl — who she was meant to hate. This girl who _saved_ her, who was housing her and feeding her and looking at her with pained blue eyes. She didn’t deserve this. Lena was beginning to feel things, and that was dangerous.

“Did you ever try to escape?” Kara’s voice brought her back from the depths of her mind like an anchor.

“Once. I tried to call Lex for help, but Lillian found me. She locked me away without food for two weeks, and then she—” Lena couldn’t finish. “I learned never to try it again.”

“I’m sorry if this is painful,” Kara said, her words genuine and her gaze soft. “I promise, I just have a few more questions, and then we’ll be done.” Lena nodded, blinked, tightened the grip on her arms. “I work for the Department of Extra-Normal Operations, the DEO. We sort of monitor and control alien and metahuman life, especially when those aliens and metahumans are a threat to the greater good.”

“That’s what I am, then,” Lena almost laughed, “a metahuman?”

Kara smiled down into her hands. “Well, yes. You fit the definition of a meta. The analysts at the DEO were only able to take a few blood samples, but those didn’t show very much. Tomorrow, I can take you to our base and we can run some tests—”

“No,” Lena snapped, her hands coming down hard on the armrests of the chair. “No tests. No more tests.” She tensed up, her chest constricted, and her breaths came out in short little gasps.

“Okay, no tests, I promise. It’s okay,” Kara said. She got up from the sofa and was at Lena’s side in a second, crouched down to meet her at eye level. “Hey, shh, it’s okay, Lena.” She took Lena’s tense hand and laced their fingers together. Lena barely noticed, she was seeing black spots. “Lena, you’re here and you’re safe, and no one is going to hurt you. Just breathe with me. Listen to my voice and breathe with me.” 

Lena tried to focus on the voice, tried to hear the soothing sounds. Kara kept uttering calm, meaningless words, some in a language that Lena didn’t know. Her hand in Lena’s was a constant pressure that brought Lena back to that moment, that living room. After what felt like forever, her chest opened and her breaths evened out, and she was able to see how close Kara was to her, was able to really feel the warmth in Kara’s hand and hear the words, understand them. She brought her hand out of Kara’s and tucked it nervously in her lap, and Kara moved to sit with her back to the coffee table just inches away.

“Thank you,” Lena said meekly. Kara just nodded, her brows furrowed in concern. “That doesn’t happen often, I swear. It was more frequent when I began my training at the Cadmus facility.”

“I understand.” Kara still looked concerned, but Lena offered her a steady gaze and that seemed to be enough. “Can you tell me about your powers?”

“Y-yes, though I don’t have as much information as the Cadmus doctors do. And, they’re more of abilities rather than powers. I can— well, my senses are heightened.” Kara tilted her head in somewhat of confusion, so Lena took a breath and went further. “I can hear things that are a great distance away from me, my sense of smell is better than that of a normal human, heat and cold affect me in more dramatic ways, and everything is _brighter_. It’s easier for me to see in the dark, and lights can be blinding at times.”

“Those are similar to my powers,” Kara supplied with a little smile.

“Yes, well, it seems that your powers work to a greater extent than mine,” Lena said, her tone light and bitter all at once. “I have strength, as well, and that translates into speed and the ability to jump.”

“That move you made during the fight, when you jumped onto the side of the building, was pretty cool.” Kara’s smile was blinding, then, and it brought a small grin to Lena’s lips. She looked down, feeling heat rising on her cheeks.

“I suppose it was.”

“You’re also impervious to pain, as you said,” Kara continued. Lena looked up to find the hero’s cheeks pink, and her gaze somewhere beside Lena. “Is that it?” When Lena nodded, Kara stood and adjusted her sweater. “I don’t know about you, but I am hungry. Is take out okay?”

“Take out?” Lena questioned, and the affronted look on Kara’s face made her want to laugh.

“Take out is one of the best things about this planet,” Kara said. She took out her phone and started tapping the number onto the screen. “You just order, and in thirty minutes you have some of the best food in the galaxy, and you don’t even have to leave your apartment. Are you okay with Chinese?”

In truth, Lena had never had Chinese food, but she nodded her head as though it was her favorite food in the world. Kara smiled and put the phone to her ear. When the take out person on the other end picked up, Kara cheerily rattled off a fairly large list of foods — the names of which Lena had never heard — before she gave her name and hung up.

“What do we do now?” Lena asked. She finally felt comfortable enough to draw her legs up to rest on the chair, and she folded her arms over her knees. Her left calf was still tender, but it was feeling better.

“We could watch a movie,” Kara said, reaching over to pick up the remote from the coffee table. The television clicked on and brought new light to the rapidly darkening space. Kara collapsed back on the sofa and started flicking through the channels. A news station was broadcasting a sequence of the battle between Supergirl and Priestess. Kara passed that station quickly. “The Christmas movies should be on already.”

Kara flipped through some more channels, finally landing on a Christmas-looking movie. It played for a few seconds before the main character came on the screen. Lena froze, gasped, turned away. _The Santa Clause_.

“Turn it off. Please,” she said, biting on her lower lip. Kara pressed the ‘off’ button on the remote immediately, and Tim Allen’s voice was muted. Lena closed her eyes tightly. “That was the movie I watched with Lex the night I met him. Christmas Eve, after I had been adopted.”

“I’m sorry.” Kara gently placed the remote back on the coffee table and stood up again. She looked around for a few moments, a bit awkwardly, before moving to a chest near the window. “I have some games, I think. I have Scrabble, checkers—”

“Do you have chess? That used to be my favorite game.”

Kara turned, an apologetic look on her face. “Ah, I actually don’t know how to play chess.”

“Checkers will do, then,” Lena said with a hint of a smile. Kara nodded, pulled the game out of the chest, and placed it on the table. “Are you ready to lose, Supergirl?”

“In your dreams, Priestess,” Kara scoffed.

Kara smiled.

Lena smiled.

Three checkers games later, and Lena was the reigning champion. Kara had sighed in defeat, had fallen flat on the ground with her arms spread at her sides, groaning about how she, the best checkers player that she knew, had been bested.

“Growing up a Luthor, I learned a few things about strategy,” Lena quipped. She collected the game pieces and placed them back in their box. Kara sat up and checked the time on her phone.

“Oh Rao! I forgot about the take out.” She got up, collected her wallet and phone with super-human speed, before stepping to the window. “I’ll be right back.” A blur, and Kara was out the window. Five minutes later, she was flying back through the window, four plastic bags hanging from her arms. Not a hair on her head was out of place. Kara placed the bags on the kitchen counter and pulled out a fork. “I got chicken and broccoli for you, and some brown rice. There are extra pot stickers if you want them, but if you don’t, I’ll have them. I also have lo mein, honey walnut shrimp, and ruby chicken, but that’s all for me. You can try some, if you’d like.”

“The chicken should be fine,” Lena said. She stood from her chair and met Kara at the counter. There were six white containers on the counter, two of them open. Kara handed those ones to Lena, along with the fork.

“I figure since you haven’t had take out, you won’t know how to use chopsticks.”

Lena nodded, took the fork, and sat at the island where she’d had her breakfast. The container was warm and the food smelled divine. She picked up her fork, skewered a bit of chicken, and tasted it. It was salty and sweet and no amount of gourmet food she had ever had could compare.

“This is amazing,” she said, covering her chewing mouth with her hand. Kara just smiled and giggled, only a little, and Lena couldn’t contain her own smile as she swallowed.

“I’m glad you like it, because Chinese take out is forty percent of my diet,” Kara quipped. She ate a potsticker, then quickly ate another. They chewed on their food in silence for a few moments, Lena eating her chicken with less grace than normal, Kara switching between her containers frequently.

When Lena’s food was half gone, she put the container down and swallowed. “I don’t hate you.” 

Kara paused and put her food down as well, leaned on her hands on the edge of the counter, face serious.

“Okay.”

“You’re doing so much for me, and I don’t even deserve it. I’m your enemy,” Lena said. She held Kara’s intense gaze, never wavering.

“I don’t have to be your enemy,” Kara answered simply. “If what you said is true, and I believe that it is, then you’ll distance yourself form Cadmus and you won’t be a threat to me or the alien population.”

“And if Cadmus comes for me?”

Kara’s shoulders were squared, firm, her blue eyes shining. “Then I’ll protect you.”

 

* * *

 

They spent the rest of the night in silence, mostly. Kara cleaned up after dinner, Lena put away some of the clean dishes from the morning. After, they returned to the living area to play another game of checkers.

One game turned to two, which turned to five, and before they knew it they were playing until the early hours of the morning.

Lena let Kara win the last game.

 

* * *

 

A week of quiet, domestic days in Kara’s apartment brought Lena something close to joy. It was just the two of them, sharing meals, playing checkers, and watching a television show that Kara raved about. They didn’t talk much, aside from current events or whatever was on the news. If there was a fire or an accident, Kara would immediately leap from wherever she was to help. Lena would turn on the television to the news station, watch as the hero used her freeze-breath on the fire, pull away crushed metal to save men, women, and children.

Then, she would return with her smile and sunny disposition. The Supergirl uniform would be gone in an instant, replaced with an argyle sweater or a blue blouse that brought out her eyes, and Lena would be entranced.

Who knew a god could look so lovely?

On a Monday morning, when Lena was just waking up in the soft sheets of Kara’s bed, a new voice entered the apartment. It was steady and light — almost as light as Kara’s, though still weighted by knowledge of the ugliness of the world — and it was vaguely familiar. Lena had heard a lot of voices after the battle, but Kara’s was the only one distinct enough to remember.

Lena pulled on a pair of Kara’s sweatpants and added a black sweatshirt over her tank top before leaving the room. It was darker in the apartment than usual, and Lena noticed the clouds hanging over the sky. Kara was in the kitchen pouring three cups of coffee, and another woman was sitting at the island in Lena’s seat.

Lena cleared her throat.

“Lena!” Kara put the pot of coffee down and picked up one of the cups, extending it to Lena. The other woman moved in the corner of her eye, took the second cup, and sipped on it. “I just finished breakfast. Come, sit down.”

Lena nodded, took the coffee and moved closer, but didn’t sit down. This new woman — with her wavy brown hair and narrowed brown eyes — was looking her up and down. It was less than inviting, and it put Lena on edge. Kara observed this, rolled her eyes.

“Alex, this is Lena Luthor. Stop glaring at her,” Kara huffed. Alex didn’t listen to her. “This is my sister Al—”

“Special Agent Alex Danvers. I work with the DEO, which Kara has told you about, I’m sure.” Alex turned her glare on Kara. Lena noticed the leather jacket hanging on the chair — _her_ chair — and the gun sticking out beneath Alex’s flannel. She held herself differently than Kara; she was beautiful, sharp edges and dark past, always ready for a fight. They didn’t look like sisters, but Lena knew little about alien genetics.

“You’re Kryptonian, then?” Lena asked with a raised eyebrow. Both girls turned to look at her, Kara biting her lip and Alex nearly smiling.

“Ah, no, Alex is my adoptive sister,” Kara said. She went back to placing pieces of french toast on a plate.

“When Kara arrived on this planet, her cousin brought her to our house to live with us,” Alex explained. She took another sip of her coffee, and Lena mirrored the action. “Maybe that’s why she’s so intent on taking in _strays_.” Kara turned around with the plate and put it in front of Alex, sticking her tongue out at the woman. “Speaking of strays, Mon-El keeps asking about you.”

“Are you serious?” Kara rolled her eyes to the ceiling and sighed. Alex just raised her eyebrows from behind her coffee mug.

“I’m staying out of it. But please, go visit him at the bar or something today. I need him to stop following me around the DEO like a lost puppy.”

Kara placed another full plate on the edge of the island for Lena. “I have to go to work today, or my boss might actually kill me. Alex is going to stay with you for a little bit, if that’s okay.” She looked up at Lena, and though Lena was worried about being near someone who looked considerably less trusting than Kara, she nodded. “Great. I’ll just be at the CatCo building, which isn’t far, in case you need me.”

“I’m sure we’ll be able to manage, Kara,” Alex said, rolling her eyes. Kara put the dirty pan and dishes into the sink, kissed Alex’s cheek, picked up her messenger bag and started for the door.

“Have fun, you two!”

The door closed heavily behind Kara, and Lena jumped just a bit. Ignoring the movement, Alex turned back to her breakfast. She picked up a piece of french toast, covered in powdered sugar, and ate silently. Lena did the same. After a few minutes of silence, both were finished. Lena picked up both their plates and rinsed them in the sink. 

She turned back to Alex and crossed her arms. “What do we do now?”

“I don’t know.” Alex shrugged. “I’ve never babysat an evil, alien-hating terrorist.”

“I don’t hate aliens,” Lena snapped. Alex’s eyes turned apologetic, but her face was still hard. She sipped her coffee. 

Lena’s gaze roamed over the apartment. There were art supplies by the window, books in the bookshelf and on the coffee table. The sofa wasn’t as orderly as it normally was, and Lena finally figured out why — Kara had been sleeping on the sofa. As comfortable as it was, it didn’t make up for a proper bed. Sighing, Lena made up her mind.

“We need to get a bed.”

“A… bed?” Alex furrowed her brow in a way that was so similar to Kara. She peered at Lena like she was insane, or that her suspicions about Lena’s lack of sanity had been confirmed.

“I just need a small bed, to put in Kara’s room, or somewhere here, so she doesn’t have to sleep on the sofa anymore,” Lena said, narrowing her eyes a bit at Alex.

“That’s… actually very thoughtful.” Alex stood, looked at the face of her watch on the underside of her wrist. “The furniture store should be open by now. I’ll be right back.”

“Should I go?” Lena wasn’t sure if she was ready to go out yet, but she offered anyway.

Alex chewed on her bottom lip. “That might not be a good idea.”

“Right.”

“Don’t leave,” Alex said, pulling her jacket onto her arms. “If you do, I won’t hesitate to hunt you down, and I’m not as nice as my sister.”

Then Alex was gone, and Lena was alone.

 

* * *

 

The news was boring and all of the television channels were running cheesy daytime talkshows. Lena finally found herself on Netflix and on Kara’s profile, littered with old sitcoms and half-finished drama shows. She turned on a comedy and let it fall to the background of her awareness.

It still baffled Lena that Kara, Cadmus’ enemy — and _her_ enemy by default — was being so kind. Though, it seemed that it was in Kara’s nature to be trusting and kind to all. Lena knew very little about who Supergirl really was, how she came to be.

But, Lena didn’t expect that level of trust from the hero. It was more than enough that Kara was giving her a place to stay, food, and protection; Kara didn’t owe Lena anything, let alone her backstory. Lena didn’t want to push her luck.

Alex wasn’t gone long, only twenty minutes, and when she opened the door, she was dragging a large box. She paused at the door and peered inside with a cautious hand hovering over her gun. Lena had to bite back a laugh. Once Alex realized that Lena was harmlessly watching television, she kicked the door open wider and dragged the box inside.

“Here’s your bed.” Alex gestured with her hands and tilted her head at Lena.

“Where…” Lena said, standing from the sofa and looking around, “where should we put it?”

“ _You_ can put it behind the sofa, there should be enough room. _I_ am going to watch One Day At A Time and relax, seeing as though I just dragged that box up  the stairs by myself.” And with that, Alex flung herself on the sofa and pressed play on Netflix.

Lena grumbled and glared and shuffled her feet to the box sitting near the door. She lifted it with ease and placed it behind the sofa. It took a bit of shifting with the dining table and a decorative chest, but Lena was able to make sufficient room for the bed. She opened the box and dumped the contents on the ground. The single sheet of instructions fluttered onto the top of the pile, which consisted of various pieces of wood, metal, wires, and screws.

It was supposed to be a small cot, with a wood base and metal supports. Nothing fancy, nothing too large. The instructions were small and lacking description, and none of the pieces seemed like they could fit together. Lena sat in the middle of the pile, wood pieces on one side, oddly shaped metal parts on the other, and wires and springs in front of her.

Okay.

Lena was an engineering prodigy at boarding school. She essentially skipped two grades and was still taking advanced physics and chemistry classes. At the Cadmus facility, she had observed the technicians and learned how the machines and devices worked without anyone noticing. Lena Luthor could build a simple bed.

Almost an hour later, though, Lena was nowhere. She threw a handful of screws to the ground and growled as they spread all over the floor. Alex jumped up from the sofa with a hand on her gun.

“Woah, hey,” Alex said. Lena curled her fists. “Settle down.”

“I can’t.” Lena clenched her jaw and stared at the pieces of the bed on the floor. Pure anger coursed through her veins, as it had many times before. “I can’t build this. It’s stupid, _pathetic_.”

Alex visibly relaxed, taking her hand off of her gun. “It’s okay. I’ll help you.”

“You will?” Lena loosened her jaw and her fists.

“I’m not a horrible person, I’ll take pity on you. And this shouldn’t be very hard.” Alex slid her leather jacket off, rolled up the sleeves of her flannel, and stepped around the sofa to see what Lena had done. Pieces of wood were haphazardly connected together, and the other materials were strewn about. Alex picked up the instructions and glanced over the small sheet. “Well this isn’t helpful,” she muttered. “I’ll try to figure this out, you pick up those screws you threw.”

After an hour and a half, Alex was laying on the ground with her arms and legs thrown out, eyes closed. The metal rods were screwed together at odd angles and the frame for the cot didn’t fit with the base. They hadn’t even touched the wires and springs.

“Okay, we can’t do this,” Alex said.

“It’s a simple bed. I constructed more complicated devices than this in boarding school.” Lena rubbed her hands over her eyes and shook her head. Alex sat up and peered curiously at Lena.

“You were into engineering?”

Lena nodded. “I was good at it.”

“I have a degree in bio-engineering, and our friend Winn is an engineering geek,” Alex said. Lena hummed and played with a piece of wood in her hands. “Anyway, I think it’s time I call in some help.” She brought her phone out of her back pocket and pressed a few buttons on the screen before bringing it to her ear. “Hey, Sawyer. Are you done with your shift? I know you wanted to sleep a little, but I sort of need your help. I’m at Kara’s. Thanks, I’ll see you in a little.” She put the phone down, a little bashful smile on her face. It confused Lena, so she got up and moved to the kitchen.

“Do you want something to drink?” she asked. By then, Kara’s kitchen had become fairly familiar.

“Just some water, please,” Alex answered. Lena found two bottles and went back to the mess of wood and metal and handed one to Alex.

They sat in awkward silence, then, sipping their waters.

Thankfully, a knock sounded at the door, and Alex jumped up to get it. On the other side was a small woman with tanned skin and dark hair, outfitted in jeans and a white button-down, sleeves rolled up. She smiled at Alex and walked inside, but stopped when she saw Lena.

“Who’s this?” the woman asked, head tipped to the side with curiosity.

“Lena Luthor,” Alex said, “although you might know her as Priestess.”

The woman crossed her arms over her chest. “NCPD has been cleaning up your messes for a while now.” At Lena’s confused stare, she continued. “I’m Detective Maggie Sawyer, NCPD Science Division.”

“I see,” Lena said simply. Maggie was a little on edge, but not overly defensive, and she easily fell out of it once she saw the pieces of the bed on the floor.

“What have you two done?” Maggie asked with a laugh. She stepped over a long piece of wood and leaned against the back of the sofa.

“Kara has been sleeping on the sofa since she took me in,” Lena started.

“I bought a nice cot so that Kara didn’t have to sleep on the sofa anymore,” Alex continued. She gestured to the pile with both her hands and huffed. “Four hours later, and here we are.”

“You can’t build a simple cot?” Maggie couldn’t contain her smile.

Alex glared. “It’s not that easy!”

“Please, I’ll bet I can build it in twenty minutes,” Maggie said.

“A trip to the National City Science Fair says you can’t.”

“You’re on, Danvers.”

Lena watched them with an amused grin. They were so comfortable together, so light-hearted and free. Never before had Lena seen two people in tune with each other. It brought a little bit of lightness to her heart that, before Kara and Alex and Maggie, hadn’t existed.

 

* * *

 

As funny as Maggie was, she wasn’t particularly skilled in building.

“Babe, just give it up.” Alex was practically begging by then. She and Lena were sitting away from the project, having given up themselves an hour prior. Maggie was still pouring over the dilapidated bed, trying to fix a piece of wire that had bent the wrong way. The frame was built, though very poorly, and it was standing on three legs. Metal pieces were sticking out from different areas without any purpose.

“No. I will build this.” Maggie didn’t even look up from her task.

“It’s almost five, you’ve been up since your graveyard shift, and I’m hungry. Stop.” Alex crawled over the floor to Maggie’s side and put a hand on her shoulder.

“What kind of a lesbian am I if I can’t build a damn cot?” Maggie muttered.

 _Lesbian_. Maggie was a…

“Lesbian?”

Maggie and Alex froze, tensed, looked up at Lena with matching glares.

“Yeah,” Maggie said.

Alex shifted her weight. “Is that a problem?”

_Lillian was beyond angry. It was worse than it had been in the car — Lillian was subdued then. But in the confines of the Cadmus facility, away from the world, Lillian was able to yell and scream._

_“Imagine how people will talk. What they’ll say about us. Our daughter was kicked out of the best school in the country. She failed. She wasn’t good enough.” Lillian’s words were sharper than the knife she used to mar Lena’s flesh. “All because she wanted to kiss some girl, wanted to be some sort of disgusting lesbian. That’s not the way the world works, Lena.”_

“N-no, it’s not. I just— I’ve never…” Lena stopped, breathed, willed the memories to subside. “I’m a le—” Alex and Maggie’s eyes widened, and she stopped, unable to get the word out. “I like, um, girls. Women. I was taught that it was wrong.”

Maggie smiled sadly. “I understand. I’m sorry.”

They all sat in silence for a few moments, Alex gently rubbing a hand over Maggie’s back and Lena staring at her hands.

“I cannot… I don’t know why I just told you that,” Lena breathed. “Please don’t— don’t tell Kara.”

“We won’t,” Alex said. For the first time all day, Alex softened completely. Maggie sighed and picked up another piece of wood.

“I will finish this.”

Alex groaned and Lena held back a laugh, and Maggie stuck her tongue out as the door opened to reveal a worn-out Kara. Once Kara laid eyes on the three women on the ground, her shoulders dropped and she smiled.

“What is going on here?” she asked. She dumped her bag and coat on a chair, kicked off her little heels, and padded over to the women.

“Lena felt guilty about you sleeping on the sofa so your sister bought a cot and we can’t _fucking_ figure out how to put it together,” Maggie explained in one breath. Kara laughed, bright and full and beautiful, and sat on the ground with them.

“I appreciate the thought, really, but I don’t need a bed. The sofa is fine,” Kara said. “Start taking this apart and I’ll return it tomorrow.” She got up from the floor and placed a kiss on Alex and Maggie’s heads before going into the kitchen. “Will you two stay for dinner? I’ll make pasta.”

“Of course, Little Danvers,” Maggie answered. She and Alex were already pulling out screws and taking apart the structure.

Lena got up from the floor and followed Kara into the kitchen. “Kara, I can’t ask you to give up your bed for me.”

“You didn’t ask.” Kara smiled before she took out a big pot and filled it with water.

“I can sleep on the sofa, it’s fine,” Lena insisted.

“It’s really okay, Lena. I want you to be comfortable.” Kara turned the burner on and poured a bit of salt into the water. She looked at Lena and added, “Tomorrow we’ll take you shopping. My clothes are a little long on you.”

Lena nodded. Kara reached up to the cabinets and pulled out a large box of spaghetti, put it on the counter, then pulled some broccoli out of the refrigerator. Lena watched Alex and Maggie as she leaned against the kitchen counter. They were smiling and laughing and bumping shoulders, faces close together. After Kara was done with the broccoli, she moved to stand next to Lena, their own shoulders brushing.

“They’re cute, aren’t they?” Kara said, a small smile on her face. Lena turned to look at Kara’s profile.

“Are they… together?”

Kara nodded. “Alex has been so happy since she came out. Maggie makes her smile so brightly.”

“It’s nice,” Lena agreed. They had just settled into a comfortable silence when Kara’s phone rang, and both women jumped before Kara pulled it out of her pocket. The name on the screen said _Mon-El_. Kara sighed and turned the phone on silent. “Is that a boyfriend?”

Kara’s jaw twitched. “Something like that.”

Lena’s chest clenched, and for some odd reason those words rang throughout her mind for the rest of the night.

 

* * *

 

Everyone was staring at Lena.

Their eyes burned into her on all sides. Her pale skin, her sharp jaw and tortured eyes, they stood out among the vibrant citizens of National City. And when they saw her, they stared, Lena was sure of it. They knew what she had done. They knew what she was. They saw the anger and the impassiveness and the scars and the blood on her hands. Lena would never be like them, never fit in, never atone for her—

“Calm down and breathe. No one is staring at you.”

Kara’s voice, Kara’s face and eyes were a lighthouse calling out to Lena through the haze. They moved down the sidewalk, a shopping bag hanging from each of Kara’s arms, looking for the next store. Kara had picked up a few things, but they had yet to find anything that suited Lena.

Lena shook her head. “How did you—”

“I can hear your heartbeat,” Kara said quietly, so only Lena could hear her. It was an interesting way to communicate — both of them talking under their breaths, utilizing their enhanced hearing. Lena’s wasn’t as clear or acute as Kara’s, but she managed. It made their words that much more intimate. “No one knows who you are,” Kara continued. “If they’re staring, it’s because you’re so beau—”

Lena snapped her gaze to Kara beside her and found bright red covering the hero’s cheeks.

 _Oh_.

 

* * *

 

“So Lena,” Kara drawled, wringing her hands in front of her. Lena stopped reading her book — it was on mechanical engineering, she had gotten it at the library during their shopping day — and looked up. Something in Kara’s tone put her on edge like it never had before. “I sort of— um— well, I’m just going to say it. My boss, J’onn, wants me to bring you to the DEO.”

Lena clenched her jaw. “For what?”

“Just to talk. We won’t run any tests, not until you feel comfortable enough to do that,” Kara said. She tentatively sat on the sofa next to Lena and placed a hand on her leg. “All he wants to do is ask some questions.”

“They’re going to interrogate me.”

Kara opened her mouth to speak, sighed, and closed it. 

“Yes.”

Lena looked back down to her book. It was a hardback, but she took the annoying paper off to reveal the maroon cover and the gold lettering. She ran her fingertip over the words.

“Thank you. For not lying to me,” Lena said.

“Of course.”

The next day, they went.

Lena was dressed in her best new clothes — black pants and a tight black top that hung low on her chest. Her hair was combed back tightly and held in a ponytail; Kara’s pink lipstick and blush tinted her lips and cheeks lightly, and her eyes were lined in black. She didn’t look evil, but she looked deadly.

After Lena had stepped out of Kara’s room, she found the hero staring in muted shock.

“You, um— you look good. Really good.”

Lena shrugged, quirked up the corner of her mouth. “Thank you.”

Then they left. It was a fairly short walk, though walking through the bustling streets during the day was something Lena was still adjusting to. She made sure she could sense Kara closely at all times. Kara was Lena’s tether to the real world.

“This is weird for me,” Kara said as they walked through the reflective glass doors. The tower was tall, shining and magnificent on the National City skyline.

“Why is that?” Lena tensed as she saw all eyes turn on them.

“I’ve never walked through the front door. I usually fly.” Kara was looking around in awe, seemingly oblivious to the stares they were getting. Lena was aware, but when she saw the look of unbridled astonishment on Kara’s face, she didn’t care if anyone stared.

Kara was beautiful.

As soon as that thought came to Lena’s mind, her stomach coiled. _No_.

“Kara!” Alex was walking quickly towards them, flanked by three armed men in black uniforms matching Alex’s. The men reached them and took Lena roughly by the arms. On instinct, Lena thrashed and fought back, until they just gripped her harder, pinning her in place.

Her heart pounded. It was happening again, she was being taken to be poked and prodded and used.

“What are you doing?” Kara exclaimed, glaring at her sister defiantly.

“Lena is to be escorted in by these men until we know that she isn’t a threat,” Alex explained.

“She isn’t a threat.”

Alex lowered her voice. “Kara…”

“No. _Release her_ ,” Kara seethed. She turned her stare to the men holding Lena. It was a look that Lena had never seen on the girl, fierce and fiery and holding worlds of anger behind her irises. It was something of a reflection of Lena’s own gaze.

Alex nodded slightly, and the men released her.

“Come with me.” Alex turned back the way she came. The men followed her. Lena waited for a moment to gather herself before she started walking. Kara fell into step beside her, took her hand and squeezed it for a moment.

“I’m so sorry. Alex is really great, she cares so much, she’s just…” Kara looked at her sister’s back, leading them to the elevator. “She’s learned not to trust anyone.”

“And you learned to trust everyone?” Lena asked, a little sour.

“I learned not to trust anyone. I _choose_ to give everyone a chance.”

Lena stayed silent after that. Kara’s hand slipped out of her grasp, but her skin still tingled. Lena _felt_ it. Her breath hitched and Kara looked at her strangely.

The elevator doors opened and the agents filed inside, followed by Kara and Lena. Alex, Kara, and Lena were shoulder-to-shoulder, the larger men filling the space behind them. Light, upbeat music played through some invisibles speakers, jazzy notes dancing through the silent, charged energy. After a few seconds, Kara started humming along.

“Really, Kara?”

“What? I love this song.”

“I’m going to kill Winn for programming this stupid music.”

One of the men behind them snorted in laughter. Alex turned, face stern and with the deadliest glare Lena had ever seen. The man stopped, straightened his face, and cleared his throat.

It was a few more moments before the doors opened, and Alex led the way out. They stepped into a hallway that opened onto a glass catwalk. Laboratories with medical materials were on either side of the catwalk behind large glass windows. On one side of the catwalk was the large glass wall that looked out over National City; on the other was the DEO floor, down a flight of stairs. Lena followed Alex and Kara down the stairs and onto the floor, where men and women in uniform were milling around. All of them were armed. Bright screens made up most of the far wall, and beneath them stood a circular, glowing table. Computers were fixed on desks that circled the grand table, and only one man sat at one of the desks. As they approached, he stood.

“Hey! So I analyzed that data on Aluhan sightings and I think I found a pattern, and— oh!” He saw Lena, stopped and stared. “T-that’s— that’s—”

“Lena Luthor,” Kara finished. “Priestess.”

Winn, tripping over the leg of his chair, stepped forward quickly and extended his hand. “Agent Winn Schott, tech extraordinaire. And, like, I know that until a few weeks ago you were sort of evil, but your villainy-outfit-thing was _really_ cool.”

Lena shook his hand shortly. “Uh, thank you.”

“Where’s J’onn?” Kara asked, and suddenly they were back to business.

“He’s finishing up a training session with Mon-El,” Winn said. Lena stiffened at the second name, as did Kara.

“I’ll— I’ll go find him.” Kara looked to Alex for confirmation, and the older sister nodded.

“Winn and I have to discuss the elevator music,” Alex said, turning her sharp gaze on the man. Winn visibly cowered.

“R-right. That.”

“Come on, Lena.” Kara hooked her hand in the crook of Lena’s elbow and pulled her gently away from the center of the DEO floor. “So, um, J’onn is a little… intimidating. He’ll want to ask you questions about Cadmus and your mother, and he won’t be gentle about it.” They came to the end of the hallway, where a narrow staircase stretched below them.

“I can handle it,” Lena said stiffly.

“If you want, I’ll stay with you the whole time.”

Lena so wanted to say yes. She wanted to be near Kara all the time. But as she opened her mouth to speak, a man with brown hair bounded up the stairs and drew the attention of both women.

“Kara,” he breathed, and he stepped closer, and he wrapped his arms around Kara while eying Lena suspiciously. Lena clenched her jaw and kept a snarl from bubbling up.

“Hi, Mon-El,” Kara said, a bit weakly. Mon-El kissed the top of her head, and Kara flinched before pulling away from him.

“Supergirl,” another voice, gruff and hard, laced with affection, came from the staircase. A tall, dark man with calculating eyes stepped out and crossed his arms over his chest. He barely looked at Lena. “Thank you for bringing her in. I’ll take her to the interrogation room.”

“I’m coming with you.” Kara stepped forward, heroic stance already in place. Mon-El put a hand on her shoulder.

“You aren’t needed,” the man said. He started walking, and Lena simply followed.

“At least let me stay outside the door,” Kara insisted, walking quickly to catch up. The man stopped, stared at Kara with focus, and raised an eyebrow before shaking his head.

“You Danvers girls and your feelings,” he muttered, though with such love Lena almost thought he sounded fatherly. “Fine. But you stay outside with Mon-El.” He began stalking off, and Kara fell into step beside Lena, with Mon-El behind them.

“What just happened?” Lena asked quietly. Kara bit her lip.

“J’onn is a Martian, and he can read minds. So he read mine.” Lena was about to ask another question, but Kara cut her off. “Don’t worry about it.”

They walked to another area of glass. One of the rooms had a metal table and two chairs on the inside, with a few scattered chairs on the outside of the glass. J’onn opened the glass door and gestured for Lena to go inside. It was cold. She felt like she was under a microscope.

“Sit down.” Lena did as she was told and sat at the table, J’onn sitting across from her. He leaned forward onto the table, narrowing his eyes a bit. Lena kept her back straight, as she had been taught to do. “Should I call you Priestess?”

“No.”

“Who are you, then?”

Lena swallowed. “I think you know who I am.”

“I know who you were,” J’onn said. “You were an orphan, a child, a weapon. Now, you have to make a choice. Are you Priestess, or are you someone else? Who do you _want_ to be?”

Lena looked through the glass and at Kara, standing, talking but still aware of Lena to her side. Kara’s eyes were strong and sure, her hair was shining in the light. Lena knew, she _knew._

“Lena.”

 

* * *

 

“What are you doing?”

Lena was tense as she stood in the doorway to Kara’s room. She had woken up to Kara’s familiar singing, expecting to walk into the living room like always. But the living room… it was just so _festive_.

Kara stopped singing and turned around, a string of tinsel in her arms. “Decorating,” she said, a little guiltily. “It’s— it’s Christmas.”

“Oh.”

“I hope you don’t mind.” Kara put the tinsel on one of her small tables and walked around various decorations to get to Lena. “A few months ago, I offered to host the holiday party, and that was before I knew you would be here, and I don’t know if you celebrate, well, anything, but It should be fun. All my friends are coming.”

“I guess it’s okay.”

Lena couldn’t say that she had never liked Christmas, that it reminded her of her first with the Luthors — being tortured in a lab, then taken to a high-society party where she was terrified by everything. She couldn’t say that every Christmas after that had been spent in the boarding school library, and then in her cell at the Cadmus facility.

“It’s nothing big. Just Alex and Maggie, Winn, J’onn, James — you’ll like him, he’s very nice — and Mon-El,” Kara said. She looked away after saying his name and bit her lip. “Uh, and it’s not really Christmas, because Winn is Jewish and J’onn, Mon-El, and I don’t really have a religion on Earth with holidays like this, but Christmas decorations are so fun.”

“I… should I help set up?” Lena asked. Kara scanned the apartment. The apartment was overflowing with decorations, and only one box was left — the ornaments for the small tree sitting where the television used to be.

“You can start putting the ornaments on the tree. That might take a while. I have to start on the food, but I’ll be over soon.” Lena nodded and picked up the full box. Kara watched her for a moment before going to the kitchen.

She felt Kara’s eyes on her back every once in a while, just glancing.

 

* * *

 

Kara paused while putting a bright pink ornament on the tree. Rolling her eyes to the ceiling, she groaned.

“Can’t criminals take a break for the holidays?”

In an instant, she was changed into her suit of red and blue, and she was swooping out the window. It was only ten minutes before she was back, hair flying around her ash-covered face.

“All okay?” Lena asked around a small laugh.

“Minor explosion. The guys tried to blast through a bank full of patrons.” Kara stepped closer to the tree to fix a stray ornament.

“Good thing Supergirl was there to save the day,” Lena quipped. Kara smiled proudly and shifted towards Lena to tuck tinsel into the branches.

Lena could feel her breath, could hear the slightest sound of her pulse, and could see the light in her eyes. She looked down to Kara’s lips as Kara cast her gaze on Lena, and they both stopped breathing, for just a second. And, oh, did Lena’s heart race — she knew Kara could hear it, but she didn’t know if she cared. Because she was captivated. Kara was beautiful when she was breathless.

“I’m gonna, um…” Kara shook her head, looked over Lena’s shoulder. “I’m gonna shower.”

Lena stepped back instinctively, feeling her heart tighten painfully. What she had almost done — what she thought about, was sure she longed for — was something she couldn’t ever have. It got her into trouble. She couldn’t do it again. So she stuffed that wanting and longing deep down, back to where she had previously hidden her feelings — the place that Kara herself had opened up in more time than it had taken to close.

The disappointment in Kara’s eyes, though — that was enough to keep the wanting and longing just beneath the surface, with a seal that didn’t fit over them too tightly.

 

* * *

 

Being a Luthor meant being prompt. It meant being a good hostess, always at the helm when guests were to arrive, to receive them.

Being Lena meant hiding in Kara’s room.

Lena wasn’t _afraid_ of Kara’s friends, she had met five of them and like four of them. (She and Mon-El hadn’t gotten past threatening glares). Kara had hailed James as the nicest, most mild-mannered man she had ever met. There was nothing to be afraid of.

But Lena was still hiding. Her gaze roamed over her appearance in the mirror. She was dressed in a tight black skirt and a red blouse, and her hair was loose around her shoulders. She was trying to be… softer.

The voices outside of the room were warm and inviting, yet Lena still couldn’t bring herself to move. Kara’s friends were strangers, people who would stare at her and judge her and hate her. She could only trust Kara not to treat her like a villain.

Someone knocked on the door softly. “Lena?” Kara called. “Are you okay?”

“I’m— I’m fine,” Lena said. She smoothed her hands over her skirt once more, puckered her blood-red lips, and fixed her hair before making her way over to the door. When she opened it, she found Kara standing on the other side, holding two glasses of red wine. Her jaw dropped.

“Lena, you look…” Kara closed her mouth and swallowed thickly. “Wow.”

Lena dipped her head to hide her growing blush. “Thank you.”

They stood in charged silence for a few moments, both staring. Kara looked radiant in a gold dress that hugged her curves well. Her hair was up, tendrils framing her face delicately. Lena wanted to reach out and smooth them back behind her ears.

“Uh, here.” Kara extended the wine glass in her left hand. “I didn’t know what you drank, so I figured wine would be okay.”

“I’ve never drank alcohol,” Lena admitted quietly. She took the glass, and the sweetly acidic scent hit her nose immediately, familiar from years of being at various functions with the Luthor family.

“Really?” Kara asked, brow wrinkled.

“I was young when I was taken to Cadmus.” Lena clenched her jaw.

“Right. Sorry.” Kara smiled weakly before stepping closer to Lena, moving them back further into Kara’s room. “Try this here, and if you don’t like it, you can spit it out.” Lena nodded. She lifted the glass to her lips and took a gentle sip. It was thick and tangy, but still oddly sweet. Curious, she took another, fuller, sip. “Good?”

“Very.”

Kara smiled. 

“Will you join the party now?”

Lena huffed, but couldn’t keep the grin from stretching on her lips. “If I must.”

She followed Kara out of the bedroom and into the living room. Music was playing in the background, lights were twinkling, and the guests were talking. The food was sitting out in the kitchen, waiting to be plated and served on the table. Lena saw the familiar faces — Winn, Alex, Maggie, J’onn, _Mon-El_ — but there was a tall, handsome black man standing with the others as well. James, Lena figured. They were all dressed well, the men in dress shirts and pants, the girls in cocktail dresses. It was a nice affair, and Lena might have been able to appreciate it.

She couldn’t, though, because _everything_ was hitting her. The lights, twinkling so brightly on the edge of her vision, the smells of the different foods filling the air, the sounds of laughter and music and voices that she barely recognized. It was like so many years ago, when she was small and scared and confused. A glass shattered. Colors popped and began blurring into one another. Static rose in her ears, shutting out the sounds. Her chest rose and fell quickly. Before she knew what she was doing, Lena was rushing out the front door, and it was slamming behind her. 

From there, she didn’t know where to go, just that she _had to go_.

Lena looked down at her hands — they were bleeding, but she couldn’t feel it, never felt it, hated that she couldn’t. Static still played in her ears, and a ringing formed. The lights in the hallway were still so bright, too bright. Hands wrapped around Lena’s wrists, and she pulled back and thrashed, looked up and made out Kara through the haze.

“—Lena, Lena! Can you hear me?” Her voice managed to cut through the static, just enough. Lena nodded her head. “What’s wrong?”

“T-too much, it’s too m-much.”

“What do you need?” Kara asked, her words urgent but patient. She sounded like she was speaking under water, and Lena was just barely hearing her.

“Quiet. D-dark and quiet.”

“Okay, dark and quiet.” Kara tugged on her wrists, pulled her down the few stairs and out into the cool night air. They walked around the building and to a dark alleyway, before Kara stopped. She put her hands on Lena’s cheeks, firm and sure. “I’ve got you, Lena. Just close your eyes, and don’t let go of me, okay? I’ve got you.”

Lena closed her eyes, nodded, felt Kara’s hands wrap around her waist and tighten at her back. Lena instinctively let her arms fall on Kara’s shoulders and lace together behind her neck. In a moment, they were moving — her feet were no longer on the ground, wind was whipping through her hair. Soon, the static began to fade, and her mind became clearer. She was _flying_.

Lena barely noticed that they had stopped; when she did, she blinked open her eyes. There they were, just above the clouds, in a place where no sounds reached. It was so silent, like everything had been muted. Lena tilted her head up and saw the stars in the darkened sky above them. The whole time, Kara was watching her intently.

They were pressed up close, Kara’s strong arms still at her back. Lena could feel Kara’s breath on her neck and exhaled shakily. She looked back down from space and into the shine of Kara’s eyes.

“I’ve never taken anyone up here.” Kara spoke softly, as though anything louder than a whisper would interrupt the sanctity of the silent sky. “No average human could survive it, but since you’re a meta, I figured it would be safe.”

Lena stared at Kara, lips parted just slightly, finally catching her breath. She could feel Kara’s heart beating, even in her own chest, and it was in time with her rapid pulse. Failing to find words, Lena nodded, and Kara continued.

“I used to fly up here to feel something close to normal. When I was adjusting to my powers, this was the only place that didn’t overwhelm me. It was dark, quiet, and close to the stars,” Kara said reverently, “close to my home.”

A single tear slid down Lena’s cheek, and Kara gave Lena a reassuring smile before pressing her lips to it. Lena gasped, tightened her arms around Kara’s neck. Her lips, they were so soft, they were so gentle. More tears escaped Lena’s eyes, because it had been _so long_ since anyone had been gentle with her, since anyone had touched her with the care of touching glass.

Kara stopped each tear with her lips, until Lena’s cheeks were dry. She pulled away so she could look into Lena’s eyes, but Lena pressed forward, brushed her trembling lips against Kara’s, _asking_. When Kara didn’t move, Lena looked at her through her lashes.

She had made a mistake. Kara didn’t want it, didn’t want _her_. She didn’t deserve Kara. She didn’t deserve happiness.

Lena took a shaky breath. “I—”

Kara’s lips cut her off.

They were sweet and soft and a little salty. They were firm and sure and aware. They were caring and gentle and pure. Kara’s lips fit so perfectly with Lena’s. She pressed in tenderly, and Lena tilted her head up enough for Kara to kiss her fuller. Lena’s heart fluttered in time with Kara’s.

For the first time, Lena stopped thinking for the right reasons.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! Find me on tumblr at [@diana-prince-s](http://diana-prince-s.tumblr.com) !


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